


Live and Love

by Queen_OfThe_Universe



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Case Fic, Case fic turns personal, Fluff, M/M, Multiple crime scenes, Posted to AO3 in 2020, Posted to ff.net in 2007, Romance, Tortured dead bodies, Tragedy, dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2007-10-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_OfThe_Universe/pseuds/Queen_OfThe_Universe
Summary: NG. Greg has a secret relationship that could cost him his life. Meanwhile a serial killer is leaving a personal message for one of the CSIs with every body he leaves behind. There will be lots of fluff, tragedy, angst, and good ol’ forensic science!
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to ff.net a million years ago. I am reposting it here in 2020, back dating it to 2007.

“We handle each case objectively without presupposition regardless of race, color, creed, or bubble gum flavor.” -Gil Grissom from “Pilot” Season 1.

* * *

  
Nick Stokes got out of his Denali at the CSI lab, his stomach turning at the sight of the ambulance parked outside. Its lights were flashing and both back doors were open, though no siren was piercing the silent night air. He rushed though the front door to find the secretary at her desk playing with a rubber band, unable to do any work. No one else was around, which was unusual for this time of day. 

“What’s with the ambulance out front?” he asked.

“I don’t know. They say he won’t move. Doesn’t feel good. Doesn’t look good. But won’t move.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Probably some perp trying to get out of questioning for all I know.”

His stomach churning even more, sure she was wrong about the perp from his gut instincts, Nick ran down the glass corridor looking for anyone who might know what was going on, Warrick, Cathrine, even Bobby or Hodges, anyone. But no one was there. No one. Turning a corner at the end he found no one in the next hallway either. He suddenly hated this place because it reminded him of a maze more and more. And to top it off, he had a deadline to catch, find the exit at the end before something horrible happened. He’d had dreams about it before. Now he felt as if he was living it. 

Inside he had the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Something worse than a broken foot or even cardiac arrest. He began to run, worry clouding his mind. Something was wrong. And he knew who was destined for that ambulance even before he ran pell-mell around another corner and finally saw everyone bunched around the break room door. 

He began to shake, praying it wasn’t who he knew it was. Grissom was first to see him running down the hall toward them and waited for him to get there. 

“It’s Greg,” Gil said, without waiting for Nick to ask. 

Nick stopped cold. He didn’t want to hear those words. Not those. Anything but those. He worked hard to control himself as his boss spoke.

“We don’t know what’s wrong. He’s curled himself up on the couch. Won’t let anyone touch him. Claims he doesn’t feel good. And he looks like he could have been hit by a car. Paramedics are in there with him now, but he won’t let them near him.”

Without even thinking, Nick pushed through the crowd and into the room. 

Two paramedics looked up when the door opened but Nick didn’t care about them. On the couch in the corner was Greg, curled into a ball, just as Grissom had said. Quirky Greg. Always dependable for a laugh. Sweet, beautiful Greg. Tears were pouring down his bruised face, soaking his shirt. His hands were trembling as Nick fell to his knees beside his fellow CSI. He reached out to take Greg’s hands in his but Greg pulled away.

“Don’t touch me,” was all he said. 

Nick looked into Greg’s beautiful deep brown eyes, those eyes he wished he could stare into forever, and found a pain he hadn’t seen there before. One that went deeper than any possible car accident. It hurt him to know that anyone would even think of deliberately hurting Greg. How could they? 

“What happened honey?” he asked, finding himself speaking words he’d only dreamed about calling Greg.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel good. Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?”

“Hun, you’re hurt. You need help.”

He didn’t care who heard him and what they thought. He would do anything for Greg and right now he needed to know what had happened and he had to get him to the hospital by whatever means possible. He wasn’t giving up.

“I’m fine Nick.”

“No you’re not.”

Greg sighed. “I was doing ok. But I couldn’t keep my balance. I spilled my coffee.” 

Greg weakly pointed to the floor past the paramedics who were watching them interact from where they sat. Blue Hawaiian coffee grounds had spilled from the bag all over the floor.

“Gil called the paramedics then.”

“Why won’t you go with them?”

“Because I’m fine.”

“This was no car accident G. This was deliberate. So who would want to hurt you?”

“No one,” Greg choked out. “Please leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that, hun.”

“Look, we need to get back on the road,” one of the paramedics spoke up. “If he doesn’t want help there’s nothing we can do.”

“No!” 

Nick got to his feet and in one fluid motion scooped Greg up into his arms.

“Nick!” Greg was surprised, a look of shock covering his face. 

“You’re going to the hospital, even if I have to carry you.”

One of the paramedics rushed to open the door for them. As they walked through, Nick holding Greg close, all eyes turned to see them. A few shocked expressions appeared at seeing Greg’s condition for the first time.

“I’m going to the hospital, Griss,” Nick said.

“Good. I’m glad. But we are swamped with cases and already understaffed as it is.”

“Then what are you all doing standing around here for? Go solve some cases! I got this one covered.”

Nick left Grissom giving orders with the paramedics right behind him. Greg was resting his head on his shoulder. He seemed to be comfortable and to have relaxed somewhat. The older CSI wondered how he seemed so weightless. Of course he’d always been thin, but this was almost too thin. Was that a rib he was feeling?

“G, when was the last time you ate?”

Greg mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

“You know I’ll figure it out if you don’t tell me. Might as well make it easy.”

“I don’t know,” Greg mumbled more clearly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

They had reached the main doors by now and the paramedics held them open for Nick while the secretary stared. 

“Maybe yesterday....or the day before...”

“Oh hun, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just...just...take me home Nick, ok?”

“No. You need help.”

Nick set him gently down on the waiting gurney and he was loaded into the ambulance.

Along the way Greg passed out. According to the paramedics it was most likely due to his not having food for so long. They put an IV fluid in his arm and kept track of his

vitals which weren’t looking good. 

In the Emergency Room Nick waited while nurses took Greg into a separate room to look him over. A nurse came out seconds later and called Nick in.

“You said you were CSI?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“I got his shirt off...and, well, you’d better see this.”

He rushed past her to Greg’s side and stared in shock. The younger CSI’s entire chest was black and blue, as if he’d been used as a frequent punching bag. And he was thin too. Now he knew what he’d felt was a rib. He could easily see each and every one of them. Greg’s wrists held ligature marks as if he’d been tied to something and had possibly struggled to get free for many hours. 

Nick cringed as his cell phone rang.

“Thanks,” he whispered to the nurse before backing out of the room and answering the call. “Stokes.”

“Nick, I’ve got a scene I need you to process.”

“I can’t Griss. I need to stay with Greg. When he wakes up I need to talk to him, find out what happened.”

“How is he?”

“Someone tied him up and beat the shit out of him for a long time. And maybe he ate yesterday but it could have been the day before. He doesn’t remember Griss. And he’s so thin. I need to find out who did this and I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

“Nick, calm down. Look, I understand how you feel. I wish I could let you stay, but I can’t. Day shift is already coming back in for a double along with Swing, and I’ve already got another homicide on Tremont just called in. Sophia’s on her way to pick you up.”

“Griss....”

“Nicky, you know I want to catch whoever did this just as much as you. But right now we’re too swamped and he’s still breathing. Just process the scene for me. In the morning you can find out from Greg himself what happened. He’s strong Nicky. He’ll pull through.”

“You’d better be right. Cause I don’t want him to end up dead like the body at this scene.”


	2. Chapter 2

Outside, Sophia was waiting in her SUV.

“I assume you talked to Grissom?”

“Yeah.”

“Your case is in the back seat. I recall he said something about you dropping it on his foot before running to Greg.”

Nick turned to see his silver case right where she said it was.

“Guess I’ll have to apologize later.”

“He told me you took Greg to the hospital. Is he going to be ok? What happened?”

He told her what he’d already told his boss. All she could do was swear under her breath. Wanting to clear his mind of Greg’s beaten body least he think about it all night he asked Sophia to brief him on their case.

“I don’t know much,” she admitted. “Male DB found by his partner tied to their bed. That’s all I know.”

“Sounds great,” Nick sighed as she pulled up to the driveway. 

Only one police car sat there, though another two zoomed past, lights flashing and sirens wailing. 

“Man, what’s going on tonight?” Nick asked the world. “Is everyone on a crime spree?”

“Everyone but you and me,” Sophia replied getting out of the SUV.

At her nod the officer parked in the driveway left. Sitting on the front steps of the somewhat large two story house sat a man sobbing himself dry. He wore black slacks, black dress shoes, and a blue button down shirt. On his left ring finger was a single gold band. 

“Sir? I’m Nick Stokes, I’m from the crime lab. And this is Sophia...”

“He’s upstairs,” the man sobbed, looking up at them.

“And you are?” Sophia asked.

“Lorenz Dime. Frank’s husband.”

Nick’s thoughts went back to Greg and he wondered what the man would say if he knew...If he knew...Nick would kill whoever had laid a hand on Greg. And he would make sure it wouldn’t be pleasant. More so than for anyone who hurt Warrick or any of his other friends. This guy would pay. 

“Uh, Nick?”

He looked up at Sophia.

“I’ll talk to him. You want to process the scene?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Game face on. This couldn’t become personal. He couldn’t keep thinking and worrying about Greg. It was just something he couldn’t stop. Nick sighed, doing his best to keep his mind on the job as he walked up the stairs, his case in hand. Only one door was open on the right. Nick approached with caution. He had the strangest feeling that this case would be the worst of his recents. In the doorway he took a quick look around the room and nearly gagged. He stepped backward out of the room as fast as possible. 

“Nick? You ok?” Sophia came up the stairs.

“Bad scene. What did he have to say?” Nick asked to stall for time.

“Not much. He came home after work and found Frank dead. Said Frank’s family had finally accepted that they were together. He’s very upset. I doubt he could have done it.”

“I don’t rule anything out. But whoever did this is a sicko.”

“Great. Just what we need.”

“Where’s Lorenz?”

“Brass sent the other cop back, said things were calming down out there. He’s with Lorenz outside.”

Nick nodded and prepared to reenter the room.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

The body of Frank Dime had been stripped clean of all clothing and tied to the bed in a kneeling position. All four posts were connected by four wooden poles to facilitate the hanging of curtains around the bed, though it looked as though none had ever been hung there. Chains, however, had been looped around them to hang down to be locked, tightly, around Frank’s wrists, holding him in his position, even in death. His ankles had been chained to the headboard, making extra sure he wouldn’t, and couldn’t, get away. Blood soaked the once pristine white sheets and looked to have spattered over the walls and floor. Upon first glance from the doorway it appeared that Frank’s body was covered in whip lashes.

“Damn,” Sophia whispered. 

“We’re going to need heavy-duty chain cutters or something to get him down,” Nick said, taking his camera out of the case and snapping off several shots of the crime scene while Frank was still in it. 

“I’ll alert the coroner to bring some.” Sophia reached for her cell phone while Nick went further into the room. On one of the white walls a message had been scrawled in blood with a finger: “He’s mine.”

“Hey, Sophia, did Lorenz say anything about disgruntled past lovers or anything?”

Hanging up her phone she said, “Nope. Why? What have you got?”

Nick pointed to the wall before snapping off pictures of the message. 

“Wow. So, you’re thinking possibly an ex of maybe Frank’s getting back at Lorenz for taking him away from him?”

“Could be. Looks like it was written with a finger too.”

“Finger prints possible?”

“We’ll see.”

“I’ll go talk to Lorenz, see what he says.”

Nick nodded as he put his camera away and began to dust for prints.

* * *

  
“I got nothing, man. Absolutely nothing,” Nick commented a short while later to Sophia who was standing in the doorway. 

“No prints?” She was surprised and her eyes showed it. 

“Nada.”

“How is that possible? And what about the bloody message?”

“Nothing! I mean, this guy must have known what he was doing. Seriously,” Nick sighed. “So what did you come up with?”

“Same thing. He doesn’t know about any ex boyfriends. Says he never had any boyfriends himself who would do something like this.”

“Great. Just great.”

* * *

  
After processing the scene and watching the coroner’s assistant, David, finally cut the body down and cart it away, Nick went back to the lab.

“How did it go?” Grissom asked, leaving his office to check on some DNA results for his own case.

“Not good. I couldn’t find a shred of evidence.”

“Well, you’ll just have to keep looking.”

“Yeah, right.”

“How’s Greg?”

“I’m about to head over to the hospital now to find out.”

“Good. Let me know how things go, will ya?”

“Of course.”

* * *

  
At the hospital Nick asked for Greg and found that he’d left sometime in the night. The nurse told him a family member had come to pick him up, but he knew Greg had no family in the Las Vegas area. 

“We took x-rays you might want for your case,” she said, showing him to the x-ray room.

The nurse flipped through a few files until she found Greg’s. Putting them up on the wall she began pointing out healed facial fractures. 

“These are consistent with spousal abuse,” she said.

“Greg?”

“It’s possible. Extremely rare. But possible.”

Nick stared at the bones of his co-worker in shock. How could anyone pretend to love Greg and beat him like that?

“I’m assuming you’ll be wanting these for evidence?” she pointed to the x-rays.

“Um, yes. Yes, I do,” Nick said, his mind half a world away. 

She handed him a second copy and he left the hospital wondering just who had picked Greg up. Was he ok? He drove straight to Greg’s apartment to find out.

When he arrived he found the door unlocked. After knocking several times and getting no response he pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

The place was odd the way it was decorated. He’d entered the livingroom but it didn’t have anything of Greg in it. There were no posters of Manson on the walls, no gaming consoles. The place was sparse. A very uncomfortable straight backed black leather couch faced a small silver tv. There was a tall, narrow shelf to the right of the tv filled with cds and dvds, nothing of Greg’s taste evident. Most of the movies were homemade with only a date for the titles. 

Had Nick entered the wrong apartment?

“Greg? You here?” he called out.

His only response was a quiet sobbing coming from another room.

“G?”

Nick looked beyond the living room and found three more doors. Two were open. The third was closed. He knocked on the last door. 

“G?”

The sobbing was coming from inside. Trying the knob he found it locked. 

“G, come on, open up. It’s Nick.”

The sobbing stopped. 

“Nick?” came a shaky voice. 

“Open up.”

“Can’t,” Greg’s voice whimpered. “It’s locked from the outside.”

Nick spun around looking for a key, somewhere, anywhere, hoping he wouldn’t have to break the door down. By the front door were several key hooks, but only one held a ring of keys. The longer one fit into the lock and Nick was in the room within seconds. 

He wanted to gag, to be able to step back out of the room, to be able to talk to Sophia or Grissom, anyone else before he went back inside but that wasn’t an option. He stepped further into the plain white walled room. There was nothing in the room save for a dresser, a night stand and the double bed Nick was now staring at. The sheets and the comforter were all white. Greg lay on top of the comforter both hugging a pillow and burying his face in it. All he had on was a pair of boxers, allowing Nick to see every bruise, cut, and scrape on his body. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Above the head of the bed a chain had been nailed to the white wall. It lead to a metal collar locked tight around Greg’s neck.

“G?”

Tears welled up in Nick’s eyes and he had to work hard to hold them back.

“I’m sorry Nicky. I never wanted you to see me this way.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Nick ran over to the bed. 

“How do you get that off?” he pointed to the metal collar around Greg’s neck. 

“Key. But Nicky, please, don’t. Just leave. I might not make it to work tonight. Tell Griss I’m sick.”

“No G. I’m getting you out of here. Don’t worry. I promise not to let anything happen to you.”

Greg looked up at him with huge, unbelieving eyes.

“Yes, Greg. I know what I just said. Just...can you roll over so I can unlock this?”  
He obliged and Nick found the lock. Once the collar was off he was able to see the red, irritated skin on his neck caused by the chafing of the sharp edges of the collar. 

“Oh Greg.”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

Nick paused for a moment before answering. Gil wanted to know everything that was going on. Greg needed time off work, and he needed someone with him twenty-four seven to make sure this creep didn’t come back for him. He wanted to be that person. But how could he convince their boss it was the right thing to do if Greg wouldn’t let him tell?

“I promise. Now come on, let’s get you dressed and packed.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’ve got room at my place. You can crash there until you get back on your feet.”  
Those big beautiful brown eyes were looking up at him again and Nick wanted to dive right in. But he held back. Why, though, he didn’t know. But what would Greg say if he did?

“Nicky? Clothes?”

He came out of his daze. “Oh right. Sorry.”

“Dresser, bottom drawer,” Greg said with the hint of a smile on his face. 

Nick went to the drawer and found Greg’s clothes. Two pairs of old jeans, three old t-shirts, two pairs of socks, and two pairs of boxers. He already had an idea of what had been happening from the moment he’d seen no Greg in the livingroom. That was only more solidified with the clothes, but he asked the question anyway, “You got more in laundry?”

Greg had since sat up with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He looked at the floor upon hearing the question.

“No,” he whispered. 

Nick handed him some clothes.

“You got a suitcase I can put these in?”

“Box under the bed.”

Getting down on his hands and knees, he found the box and pulled it out. Inside, he found several Marilyn Manson cds along with two dvds: Brokeback Mountain and Rent. So maybe Greg wouldn’t freak out if he’d dived into those beautiful brown eyes and kissed him like he’d wanted to for so long. But they were coworkers. And the movies might not be his.

“Just put my clothes in with them.”

Nick nodded, “Anything else you want me to grab?”

“That’s it.”

He looked up to see that Greg had finally gotten his shirt on.

“You need help?”

“No.”

“I’ll just take this out to my car. I’ll be back in a sec for you. Ok?”

“Sure.”

When Nick got back from putting the box into his trunk Greg had struggled into his jeans and was on his feet holding tightly to the bed post.

“You ok?” Nick asked. “Want some help out to the car?”

“No.”

Greg let go of the post reluctantly and took a step forward and then another. He was struggling and it was evident by the look of pain on his face that he was trying hard to suppress. Halfway across the room five minutes later he stumbled and Nick caught him just in time. He had Greg off the ground and in his arms within seconds, hurrying him out the front door and into his car.

“Nick! Please! Put me down!” Greg begged.

“I told you I’m getting you out of here. Now stop complaining.”

The younger CSI dutifully shut up as Nick buckled him into the Denali. The ride to Nick’s apartment was quiet, neither one saying a word. Nick wanted to say something, to be able to ask what was going on and how long it had been happening, how he hadn’t noticed it before like he should have, but he didn’t. It was probably better to wait until Greg got settled at the apartment before he barraged him with a lot of questions. He didn’t turn on the radio either. Right then didn’t seem like the right time to play music. 

When they arrived Nick took the box of Greg’s things upstairs to his apartment before he helped Greg out of the Denali. This time he held him upright as he struggled to walk on his own. Greg tried to shrug Nick off him but he was still too unstable to walk on his own. 

Inside Nick’s apartment the front door opened up to a small livingroom. On one wall hung a medium sized flat screen tv. Underneath it was a wide two shelf bookcase that held numerous dvds, videos, and video games. On top of the bookshelf was a dvd/vcr combo and a video game console. To the right of the tv was a small desk with a computer and a rolling desk chair. On the walls either side of the tv were two tall dark wooden bookcases filled with books. One case held a steadily growing collection of forensics books while the other held a growing collection of Dean Koontz’s novels. On the final wall hung a large painting of a herd of horses grazing amongst tall prairie grass, the one stallion keeping a watchful eye for predators. In the middle of the room closer to the back wall with the painting sat a large, ultra comfortably cushioned brown corduroy couch with two similar chairs on either side of it, all facing the tv. 

Off the livingroom were the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen.

“Why are you doing this?” Greg finally asked when he was sitting on Nick’s couch.

Nick sat down in one of the matching chairs.

“Because you were in a bad situation. I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to you. I told you that.”

Nick debated how to get the answers he needed and decided a direct approach would probably be best, “G, I need to know what happened. Who did this to you and why?”

Greg shook his head but didn’t say anything. His eyes betrayed his inner feelings as he looked away from Nick. He could tell his friend had once trusted this person, even loved them, before he’d been hurt by them in the deepest way possible. Now, his eyes seemed to hold a constant sadness, hurt, and fear. This was not the same Greg that had been bouncing around the lab not that long ago. 

“Greg, I promise not to tell anyone. But I need to know.”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

It was time to let the subject go. For now. Nick still wanted to know, and would get his answers eventually, but he had to be patient until Greg was ready to talk about it. Even if he didn’t want to be. Even if he wasn’t sure he knew how to be. 

“It’s ok,” Nick said in a near whisper as he stared at the floor between his feet. 

After awhile he looked up at Greg who’s eyes were slowly closing as his head nodded.

“Greg?”

His co-worker nearly jumped to his feet at the sound of Nick’s voice. 

“Huh? What?”

“Sorry to wake you. I’m gonna call in a grocery order.”

“You get your groceries delivered?!” Greg almost sounded surprised.

“Yeah. Just makes life easier, specially since my clock isn’t running the same as everyone else’s. Is there anything you need? Deoderant? Toothpaste? I’d share mine if you like Colgate?”

“No, no. I use that Arm and Hammer stuff. Whatever they’ve got is fine. I’ll have to pay you back though, when my paycheck comes in.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I was thinking of a real Texas steak for dinner. What do you think?”

Greg’s eyes went wide as saucers for a moment. 

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good. I’ve had steak before, you know. But probably not the way you make it. I’d love to try your version.”

“Good. It’s settled then. Look, G, you’re tired. It’s almost noon and we should both be asleep. Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll call in that order. You can crash in my room.”

“No, no, no. I couldn’t take your bed, Nick.”

“It’s ok. Most of the time I prefer the couch anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Totally.”

Nick helped Greg to his feet and into his room. Inside a large queen-sized bed dominated the space. On one wall there was a different painting of the same herd of horses that hung in the livingroom. On another wall, hung a drawing of a microscope. A dresser, night stand by the bed, and a rocking chair with a warm fleece blanket draped over the back were the only other furniture in the small room. On the night stand was a well worn book entitled “One Door Away From Heaven” by Dean Koontz.

Nick lowered Greg onto the bed and pulled his shoes off. 

“I like that drawing,” Greg smiled briefly. “Reminds me of my days in DNA.”

“It always did remind me of you somehow...” There was a long pause before Nick spoke again, “Tonight we’ll worry about getting you some more clothes, ok?”

“Nick, don’t. Don’t do all this for me. Please. I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to waste all your time and money on me. I’ll just stay for the day. After work tomorrow morning I’ll head home.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Now, you just get some sleep. We’ll talk about this over dinner if you insist. And that’s final.”

Greg hung his head and sighed, “Alright. Whatever you say.”

He lay down and Nick covered him with the sheets and a blanket. 

Back out in the livingroom with the bedroom door closed Nick grabbed the phone and called Warrick. 

“Yo, Nicky, what’s up? How’s Greg?”

“He’s doing ok. I think he’ll be fine. Look, Warrick, I was wondering how your caseload was.”

“My caseload?”

“Yeah, I mean, can you handle one more?”

“Man, you are in luck. Both my cases last night were slam dunks!”

“Awesome, that’s great, cause I’m gonna need you to take over my case. Sophia can update you.”

“Does Griss know?”

“Not yet. I was gonna call him next.”

“What’s going on that you need me to cover?”

“I think...I think I’m comin’ down with something?” Nick coughed for effect.

“Sure, sure, Nicky. I’ll believe that when pigs fly. Really, how is Greg? Is it that bad?”

Nick paused, surprised Warrick had figured him out, but then again, he wasn’t a CSI for nothing. 

“Yeah, it’s bad. I promised I wouldn’t say anything. Well, that, and he hasn’t said much.” Nick lowered his voice, “but someone’s got to look after him for awhile. Just...don’t say anything to anyone. Ok?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. By the way Griss is still here, pulling a double. I was just about to leave.”

“Great, thanks Warrick.”

Nick hung up and dialed his boss’s cell phone. 

“Ello?” came a groggy voice on the other end. 

“Griss? Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, this was my only ten minute nap for the whole day. I’m pulling a double that’s going to turn into a triple the way last night went,” he almost sounded angry, which was a first for Gil Grissom who was known around the lab as the guy with no emotions. 

“I’m so sorry. Warrick just told me you were still at work, I had no idea. Why...why don’t I call you back in half an hour?”

“Too late now, Nicky. What’s up? How’s Greg?”

“That’s what I was calling about. Warrick accepted my case. I need to stay here and keep an eye on Greg. This is not good, Griss. Someone’s got it in for him, I can’t explain too much. I promised Greg I wouldn’t. I’m not even sure all of what’s been going on cause he won’t talk about it. But it’s bad. And it’s been going on for a long time. I just...could you...would you mind giving us some time off together? I don’t want to leave him alone for even a second and he’s in no shape to work at all.”

“Nick, after last night, taking two of my best CSIs off the roster isn’t a good idea. Besides that, you know how Ecklie would react to that.”

“Griss, with all due respect, I don’t care about that right now. Not any of it. Tell Ecklie to come to me, if he has problems with it. This is for Greg’s own safety, for his life. I’m certain, near a hundred percent, that if someone doesn’t keep a close eye on Greg, he might not be here tomorrow. Then you’ll have one CSI permanently off your roster. I’m just trying to make sure he stays alive and gets better. Griss, you’ve just got to trust me on this one. I promise you, I’m not lying to get time off.”

“I believe you Nicky. If it’s as bad as you say, the most I can give you right now, is a week. Take it. Do what you can and keep me updated. Ok?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks Boss.”

“I feel good knowing you’re in control of the situation. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to catch some winks.”

“But I thought you said it was too late?”

“Na, not really. And even though you did wake me up in the first place, I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

After calling the local grocery store and setting up an arrival time for the groceries Nick opened his bedroom door to check on Greg. The younger CSI was sleeping soundly, curled up in a ball. He looked like a lost puppy who hadn’t been able to find his way home. The bruises covering his face and body were still as alarming as they had been earlier that morning, and Nick couldn’t wait until the day they disappeared for good. 

Smiling through the sting in his eyes he grabbed the blanket off the rocker and the pillow that had been underneath it and went back out to the couch. He pulled his boots off and lay down, covering himself with the blanket. He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes for a few moments before popping them open again. He grabbed the cordless phone again and ran into the kitchen. On top of the fridge he pulled down the phone book and pawed through the yellow pages until he found what he was looking for. 

“World Peace Coffee and Tea Shop, this is Tiffany, how can I help you?” a light, peppy, female voice greeted Nick on the other end of the phone.

“Uh, yeah, hi, I was just wondering if you sold Blue Hawaiian coffee by any chance?”

“Is a matter of fact we just got a shipment in this morning.”

“Oh, great! I’m gonna need a lot of it.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be calling for Greg Sanders, would you?”

“Greg? You know Greg?”

“He’s the only customer who calls ahead of time to order a few cases of Blue Hawaiian. He’s our best customer, in fact.” Tiffany’s voice took a down turn all of a sudden and she seemed less peppy. “But, he hasn’t been in to get his coffee in a long time.”

“He hasn’t? How long has it been?”

“About six months, I think. And the way he goes through that coffee he should have run out ages ago. It’s not like him to wait so long to get more.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll have him back buying lots of coffee before you know it. Now, how much does he usually get at a time? And can you deliver?”

“For Greg, we always deliver. He says his clock doesn’t run the same as everyone else’s.”

Nick smiled at that. 

“And he usually gets six cases.”

“Six cases?! Man, that’s gonna burn a hole in my wallet. Might as well light a match now and be done with it.”

“He’s our best customer, remember? He gets a discount for ordering in bulk.”

Oh Greg, I love you so much! If I could fit a hundred cases of Blue Hawaiian coffee in my apartment right now, I would.


	4. Chapter 4

“Warrick, you’re taking over Nick’s case, right?” Grissom asked, walking into the break room that night.

Warrick relaxed on the small couch while both Sara and Catherine sat at the table with cups of coffee in their hands. 

“Yeah, got it covered,” Warrick replied. “I was just about to get his evidence and go over it.”

“Well, don’t.”

“What?” 

“We got another one. Looks similar. Process the new scene first. Do a comparison.”

“You thinking serial killer here?”

“Could be.”

“Jeez.”

“Where’s Nick, anyway?” Catherine asked.

“Yeah, and how’s Greg?” Sara asked. 

“Not well. I can’t say much more than that except that Nick is taking care of him.”

“Maybe we should go see them after shift?” Catherine suggested.

“Debate that when end of shift comes, should time allow. Right now, these cases won’t wait. Warrick, this guy, if you don’t solve this, I have a feeling he’ll strike again. If that happens I’m putting the whole team on it. Got that?”

“Sure thing,” Catherine said, getting up and grabbing her slip of paper from Gil. 

He looked at the remaining slips, “Sara, you’ve got a B and E on Denton. Get to work. Both of you.”

Their boss handed them their slips out to the last two CSIs and walked out, back to his bug collection.

“No pressure or anything,” Sara snorted as she passed Warrick on her way out.

* * *

Warrick pulled up at the crime scene twenty minutes later. Yellow crime scene tape surrounded the property. In the middle was a small one story house painted white a long time ago with a few corners starting to chip away to reveal a mauve underneath. A man in jeans and a green t-shirt stood unblinking, staring at the house. No doubt he was related to the deceased. 

Brass was coming out of the front door with a handkerchief covering his mouth and nose. Warrick grabbed his case from the back seat and started towards the detective. 

“Now I know what Sophia was saying about last night,” Brass growled. “Hey Warrick.”

“Hey.”

“From what I hear very little is different from last night’s scene. Where’s Nick? I thought he was on this?”

“He’s taking care of Greg.”

“Hey, how’s he doing? I heard about that this morning.”

“I honestly don’t know. So, what happened here? Where’s the body?”

Captain Jim Brass nodded towards the staring man. “That’s Johnny Dominic. He says his partner, Gary Reynolds, always got home from work before he did. When he got home half an hour ago he found him dead in the bedroom. That’s your first door on the right when you walk in.”

“Great. Thanks,” Warrick said, nodding and heading towards the house. 

In the livingroom it looked as if nothing had been disturbed. No fight looked to have occurred there. 

Standing in the bedroom doorway he blinked to clear his head and looked again. Yes, a naked man lay on his stomach, his wrists and ankles tied roughly to the four posts on the bed. His back was covered in whip lashes and blood had splattered everywhere. On one of the pale blue walls someone had written one word in blood: “If”.

“Damn,” was all he could say.

He hadn’t had a chance to look at Nick’s evidence, but if the two scenes were as similar as everyone was saying, he was in for a long night. 

* * *

“Derek! No...can...can we not...” Nick heard Greg talking in his sleep and put down the spoon in his hand. 

Quietly he checked up on his new roommate to make sure he was ok. Greg moaned as if he was in pain and rolled over in his sleep. 

“Ok Derek...whatever you w...want.” 

A look of distress came over his face and he moaned again. Nick ran to the side of the bed and sat down, gently putting a hand on the other CSI’s arm. 

“Greg?”

Greg woke up in a flash, jumping out of bed, eyes wide in terror. He was breathing hard as he stared at Nick. 

“It’s ok, G. It’s just me.”

Nick got up from where he’d sat and slowly backed up towards the door to give the scared man some personal space. 

“Nick?”

“Yeah. I was just cooking dinner and heard you talking in your sleep.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s why you’re wearing that.”

A faint smile flitted across Greg’s features. 

Nick looked down to see the flowered apron he’d put on earlier to keep his clothes clean. 

He laughed a little, “My Mom...she got this for me a long time ago. I hardly ever wear it.”

Greg’s smile grew a little. 

“You mentioned a Derek in your sleep,” Nick chanced. “Who’s that?”

“Derek?!” Greg squeaked. 

“Yeah, Derek.”

“Dinner...dinner...Oh, Shit!”

Greg made a dash for the door, but his body was still hurting and he collapsed on the floor after only two steps. 

“Greg!” Nick ran to his side. “Are you ok?”

He put an arm around his friend. 

“I’m fine. I’m just fine. I need to get home. I forgot to cook dinner.”

Greg didn’t even look up at Nick. Instead he stared off into space, eyes wide. 

“G, you’re having dinner here, remember? That Texas steak you wanted?”

Greg’s eyes watered a little. 

“I can’t have it. I’m sorry. I have to go. I need to cook dinner.”

“For Derek?”

Some of the puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place and they turned Nick’s stomach sour at the realizations he was making.

“No! No. Leave me alone. Just...please, I have to go.”

Nick took both of Greg’s shoulders in his hands and forced him to face him. 

“If he’s a big enough boy, I think he can handle his own dinner for once. You do not need   
to take care of someone like that, G. If he can take care of himself, he’ll be fine without you.”

“No. You don’t understand. I have to go cook dinner.”

“That’s not love. He doesn’t care about you if he keeps you locked up like that, makes you cook him dinner, and doesn’t let you express yourself the way you truly are in the apartment, in your clothes, in your personality. That’s not love.”

Nick couldn’t believe what he was hearing from his own mouth but he couldn’t stop himself. His heart wouldn’t let him stop. Now Greg was watching him with wide eyes. He finally had all of Greg’s attention.

“You need to get away from him, Greg. I know I should have noticed things before. I’m sorry I didn’t. I wish I had. But thinking back, I know you haven’t been yourself for a long time. And I miss that. I miss you. I want you to be you again. Not someone Derek wants you to be.”

Even through his words, Greg’s face still held a fear Nick had never known himself. 

“I have to go back,” Greg’s words were softer now, not so forceful, but that didn’t mean he believed in them any less. 

He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them, doing his best to hold back his tears.   
Nick pulled him closer. He was reluctant, but let Nick hold him in a comforting embrace. After a long while Nick said “I’d better get back to the kitchen before I burn dinner but if you’re so intent on cooking dinner tonight, I’ll at least let you help me. Ok?”

Greg nodded sadly and stood up with Nick’s help. Together they walked into the kitchen, one step at a time. Once there, Greg’s eyes caught sight of six boxes sitting on the table. A smile lit up his face that hadn’t been there in a long time. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nick said nonchalantly. “Let me get these boxes out of your way and you can sit down at the table proper like.”

Greg’s eyes never left the boxes as Nick moved them from the table to the counter. 

“Is that? Is that....”Greg sputtered, trying valiantly to get his words out. “Is that Blue Hawaiian?!”

Nick turned and smiled. “Yep.”

Suddenly Greg looked guarded and his smile faded. 

“Why? Why do you have Blue Hawaiian? Are you serious? You’re not lying, are you?”  
Sadness filled his eyes, as if someone else, possibly Derek, had lied to him once, twice, many times, regarding his favorite coffee, among other things.

“I told you, G. I miss the old you, bouncing around the place like a nut. And part of that was your coffee. And besides, your coffee was always better than that crap they have at work. All six of those cases contain your favorite Blue Hawaiian coffee. And all six of those cases belong to you, Greg.”

“Me? Me? Those are mine?”

“Yep. Just arrived an hour ago.”

Greg launched himself from his chair and straight into Nick, giving him a tight hug. 

“Oh Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” he beamed.

“I’ll brew some for dinner, how’s that sound?” Nick suggested when Greg was seated again. 

Greg looked from the cases of coffee to the floor, his smile fading fast.

“No. Don’t. I don’t deserve it. Really. I’m not good enough to have that anymore. I didn’t cook dinner.”

Nick’s heart wrenched at the words that Greg was speaking. It hurt to know that someone would do this to Greg. Sweet, beautiful Greg. How could anyone ruin him like this?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dean Koontz is one of my all time favorite authors and his novel _One Door Away From Heaven_ is one of my favorites of his, which is why it’s in this story.

Nick knelt down in front of Greg and took the man’s hands into his own. Tears stung at his eyes as he looked up at him. Greg’s clothes were large on him now when they used to fit well. It was obvious how thin he was. What was not covered by loose clothing his arms, wrists, and hands were bony just as much as the rest of him. Nick struggled to hold his tears back. 

“Greg, what happened to you is wrong. You used to be so different, that’s who you are, this crazy person who has a love of Blue Hawaiian coffee. No one should ever take that away from you. You need to be who you are, not what someone else wants you to be. I want you to be you, be who you want to be. Ok?”  
Greg nodded slowly, but he still seemed distant, as if he wasn’t really letting Nick’s words sink in. He looked away, a sadness filling his eyes. His stomach rumbled an empty rumble and Nick stood up, checking his watch. 

“Dinner should be ready. You sit tight and I’ll get the table set.”

“It smells good,” Greg whispered without any hint of emotion.

* * *

Warrick sat on a stool in the evidence room looking over the pictures Nick had taken just the night before. He shook his head as Grissom came in. 

“What’s wrong?” hi supervisor asked.

“You were right. These cases are similar. And this isn’t the end. The killer left a note on Nick’s scene ‘He’s mine.’ On tonight’s it said ‘If’. Written in the same style in blood on the wall.”

“He’s mine if? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. Why two words one night and only one the next?”

“He’s looking to draw this out. He wants personal revenge for something. Maybe he’s wanting someone to do something for him and if they don’t comply he get’s whoever ‘he’ is.”

“That could be, but the first message says otherwise. I mean why state ‘He’s mine’ right at the start if it all depends on whether someone does something for him? He clearly wants this guy. In my opinion.”

“That could very well be true too. Don’t rule anything out. Did you find anything else? I seem to recall Nick found no evidence.”

“Yeah, no. There was nothing there. It was like the guy did all that to himself or something, like no one else was in that room. Or in the house either. I searched everywhere for evidence. Came up empty. Same as Nick.”

“He knows what he’s doing. And judging by that message he won’t stop until the full message is delivered. Warrick, check to see if somehow these two couples know each other, maybe distant relatives even or friends who know friends who know friends. Anything. Also, they were both gay couples. That says something too. I’ve got to see Archie about my own case, but when Sara and Cathrine get back I’m putting them with you on this. It won’t end here, and if we can save another life by solving this sooner, all the better.”

“Great. Thanks Griss.”

✢

At Nick’s kitchen table Nick had nearly finished his dinner but Greg had only picked at his. 

“Greg, you’re hungry, why aren’t you eating? Don’t tell me my cooking is that bad.”

“No, it’s good,” he said quietly. 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing...I just....don’t think I should...”

A stern, almost fatherly, expression came over Nick’s features. “Greg, I’m telling you to eat. You are in my apartment now. Not his. You are nothing but skin and bones. You need food. Now eat.”

Without lifting his head, Greg looked up at Nick to see the serious look on his face and began to eat. Nick nodded, glad that he was finally eating something and got up to wash the dishes as he brewed some of the Blue Hawaiian coffee. When he turned around Greg’s plate was empty. He smiled and brought over two cups of coffee, setting one in front of Greg. 

The ex-lab rat looked down longingly at his coffee, smelling it’s strong, sweet aroma. He smiled faintly and looked back at Nick sitting across from him. Nick didn’t say anything, only nodded with a smile and watched Greg carefully pick up the mug and bring it to his lips. His hands shook a little but the hot liquid stayed where it was. Taking the first sip, a smile spread across Greg’s face and his hands stopped trembling. He nearly inhaled the rest of the coffee within minutes. 

“Gosh, Greg, calm down, don’t burn yourself with that!”

“I’ve missed this for so long...”

“There’s plenty more where that came from, you know. If you want more.”

“No. I don’t want to use it all up too soon. Have to make it last.”

“G, don’t worry about that. If we run out, I can order more. So, we’ve got a whole night ahead of us. What do you want to do? We can watch a movie, play a video game, I’ve got a huge library if that’s more your speed. Or if there’s anything else...”

Greg looked from Nick to his empty mug, embarrassment taking over his features. His shoulders hunched over as if he was trying to crawl inside himself and hide away from the world. 

“Anything you want to do, G. Whatever it is...I don’t care.”

“There...there’s a book,” Greg stuttered, unnaturally. “On you’re...you’re night...stand.”

“One Door Away From Heaven, I know it. That’s my favorite book. What about it?”

“Oh, never mind. Never mind. I guess...I guess a movie...would be ok.”

“You want to read it? Of course you can! And you should, it’s an amazing book, you’ll love it, I guarantee it.”

“You sure...I mean....it’s your favorite...and all...”

“G, don’t worry about it. I would love to share it with you. I’ll go get it and you can get comfortable on the couch, how does that sound?”

“Alright,” the smile was returning to Greg’s face again. 

Nick went to his bedroom to grab the book. It would be good for Greg to read it. Many of the characters were going through rough times like he was. And maybe seeing them succeed would help him. He flipped the book open to the spot where he’d left off two nights ago and took out the bookmark. Turning the pages back to the first, he slid the bookmark in and went out to the livingroom where Greg had already seated himself on the end of the brown corduroy couch, his knees drawn up to his chin. Nick handed him the book. 

“You look cold,” he said grabbing the blanket he’d used the night before from the other end of the couch and draping it over Greg to help keep him warm. 

“Thanks,” the other CSI whispered, staring at the cover of the book before he opened it and began to read. 

Nick watched Greg reading for a few moments and decided the rest of the dishes could wait until later. He went back to his bedroom and took his black Moleskin notebook and a pen from a drawer in his night stand. Back in the livingroom he wanted to sit on the couch opposite Greg, but decided that giving the man some personal space might be a good idea. Instead he chose one of the matching chairs facing him. Opening the journal his therapist had suggested he start after being buried alive he started a fresh page with the date and the time and began to write:

What the hell am I getting myself into? Greg needs help so badly. But am I the one to give it? Am I the right one? He’s been in a bad relationship for a long time. That much I know, and this might not be a good idea. I mean, I’m surprised no one’s noticed after all these years...they all think I’m straight...and I’m anything but. How could I not be in love with Greg? He’s sweet, adorable, terribly good looking, brilliant, and when he gets enough experience under his belt he’s going to be our best CSI ever, I can feel it. 

Nick looked up from his writing and watched Greg turn another page eagerly. Nick then remembered the lines he’d marked in the book near the beginning. They were his favorite and they were words he had lived by ever since reading them for the first time, words he’d trusted in, ever since he’d been kidnaped. As Greg’s eyes speedily read over the page he turned to the next. Half way down he stopped. Nick watched his eyes backtrack a few lines and reread a section and he knew what it was. Those lines he had memorized, those lines he’d lived by. Greg had found them. And maybe they would change his life too. Nick could only hope so as he recited them in his mind like he had so many times before:

<i> “Change isn’t easy, Micky. Changing the way you live means changing how you think. Changing how you think means changing what you believe about life. That’s hard, sweetie. When we make our own misery, we sometimes cling to it even when we want so bad to change, because the misery is something we know. The misery is comfortable.”</i>

While the first quote was advice from Micky’s aunt, the next marked passage came from Micky herself:

<i>“I can do what I need to do. I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is.”</i>

And then Nick stopped, remembering the last quote he’d underlined, tears came to his eyes again as he realized how much they resembled Greg’s current situation as well as his own. Looking down at his journal he nodded to himself and knew he’d done the right thing.

Micky’s aunt had added one last line at the end of the scene:

<i> “It’s also true that sometimes-not often, but once in a great while-your life can change for the better in one moment of grace, almost a sort of miracle. Something so powerful can happen, someone so special come along, some precious understanding descend on you so unexpectedly that it just pivots you in a new direction, changes you forever. Girl, I’d give everything I have if that could happen for you.”</i>

He began to write again:

I know I did the right thing. Someone had to get him out of there. No one else would have done anything. And I love him. I know I do. Being stuck underground like that made me realize it. He’s the one I hung on for. Not for my parents or my brothers and sisters. Not for Grissom or Sara, or Catherine or even Warrick. But for Greg. And maybe I hung on so that today, I could save him from a terrible fate. Because one day he’ll be our best CSI. But maybe it was something else. Maybe we were meant to be. Maybe. 

But as much as I want to drop this journal and run over to him right now and hold him tight and tell him everything, I know I can’t. Someday I’ll tell him the truth. Once he’s better and Derek’s off his mind. I have to take things slow. Let things progress at the pace he needs. 

Nick looked up again and found Greg’s eyes on him, watching him intently as if he was realizing certain things as well. But then his eyes went back to the book, as if in shame, and after a few minutes of staring at it, his eyes slowly began to move across the page again, devouring every word the author had written. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sara and Catherine walked into the layout room where Warrick was lazily looking over the evidence of both crime scenes.   


“Gosh Warrick, why don’t you get some initiative for your work,” Catherine suggested.

“Hey, Cath, Sara. This is practically a dead end case. I don’t know what to do.”

“Catch us up, Griss told us nothing,” Sara said picking up a photo of the first victim and grimacing. 

“The killer is leaving a note with each death,” Warrick pointed to the white board behind him where he’d written out ‘He’s mine.’ and ‘If...’. “Both victims were striped and whipped, beaten. There was sexual activity, but all the evidence points to the victims, not the killer.”

“Great.”

“Yeah. This guy knows what he’s doing. I found nothing to prove that anyone else was in either of those houses besides the residents.”

“So, maybe their partners killed them?”

“Well, it’s possible, but come on, two guys kill their partners in similar ways and leave almost similar messages...that doesn’t sound right,” Warrick said. “And about those messages, I found something else I’d missed before with all the blood on the wall.” 

He picked up the two photos of the bloody messages and showed them to the two women. “Look at the end of each message. Tell me what you see.”

“I see blood spatter,” Catherine said. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

“You’re not seeing it. Ok, forget that. Look at the words. The first message is two words ‘he’s mine’ and the second only has one ‘if’. Doesn’t the first sound more final to you? Like the killer is laying claim to someone, no matter what happens?”

“Maybe.”

“True, but it could also just be ‘he’s mine if...’ all three just part of a whole sentence,” Sara mused.

“Yeah, Griss and I talked about this earlier. We can’t say no to any possibility here, but to me, that just doesn’t make sense. Why one word the second night and two the first? And now, look at the ends of each message. Right after ‘He’s mine’ there’s a blood spatter that’s right in the correct area for a period. It doesn’t look like it was planted there, but...”

“Warrick, if it wasn’t planted there, then it can’t be a period,” Catherine reprimanded.

“Fine. But look at the second message. These three dots, ellipses, were planted there after ‘if’. That’s not blood spatter. And the first message, if it was a continuation, doesn’t have those.”

“You may be onto something there,” Sara studied the messages while Catherine moved to review the rest of what little evidence there was.

* * *

Several hours later Greg was a quarter of the way through One Door Away From Heaven as Nick was checking his email. 

“Greg, the rest of the team want to come over for breakfast. You up for that?”

He looked up from the book and thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Nick smiled as Greg went back to reading. He typed out his response to Catherine’s email and signed out. Looking back over at Greg in his old clothes that were too big for him, Nick sighed inwardly, and pulled out his wallet. 

“Greg, I need to tear you away from that book for a little while, ok? I promise you can get back to it in a little bit.”

Greg looked up, worried, as Nick came over and sat in the chair closest to him. 

“You need more clothes, Greg. This guy took everything you own, everything that is you, and we need to get that back. So,” he pulled out his credit card. “You’re going online and you’re going to go shopping, get whatever clothes you want. Get whatever music cds you want, books, dvds, I don’t care. Get what you need. Ok?”

Greg only stared at him in shock as Nick handed him the card. He gulped. 

“It’s ok, Greg.”

“You shouldn’t be doing all this for me. I...I’m going to owe you...so much...when this is....all over...” Greg shuddered. 

“No you won’t, Greggo. The only way you can pay me back for all this, is to just be yourself. Ok? Now, go have at it.”

Slowly, the younger CSI stood up, took the offered credit card, and walked over to the computer. 

Nick picked up his journal and pen and continued the long entry he’d started earlier:

Greg’s still unsure of himself. I think he will be for awhile. I just wish I knew of a faster way to break that shell he’s put around himself. I’m just glad my grandmother left me enough money to get Greg back on his feet right now. From what I gather, this Derek guy’s been living off Greg’s paychecks, not letting him spend his own money. I can’t wait to find this jerk. I’ll beat the crap out of him the moment I get the chance. 

Nick looked up at Greg and a smile spread across his face, seeing the Hot Topic website Greg was staring at. He recognized the look on Greg’s face as the same one he’d had looking at his cup of coffee earlier. He wanted to go shopping, but he was also afraid to. It wasn’t his money that was being spent, after all. Instead of saying anything, however, Nick just went back to his journal writing, hoping Greg would be able to overcome his fears.

He is so damned cute over there, Nick wrote. But I just hate that look on his face. He wants to do things but he’s afraid. I wish I knew how long this thing with Derek has been going on. But I’m guessing it has been for a long time. I mean, Greg was always out there, ready to insert himself into the world no matter what. But now he’s too afraid to. And that’s not like Greg. I just feel like a dumb ass for not recognizing anything sooner. I should have. If not the rest of the team, at least I should have. I’m not a CSI for nothing. I guess in this line of work you get so caught up looking into other people’s lives you forget to look into your own and those of anyone close to you, specially in this field. 

It just pains me so much to see him like this. Since he moved in his face has been turning dark purple and getting puffy. I can only imagine what this Derek guy did to him when he got him home from the hospital. Images keep floating in my head every time I look at him, I keep seeing this guy beating the crap out of him just because he went to work and I forced him to go to the hospital. I just want Greg to be happy. Is that so much to ask?

Nick, keeping his head down, peered over the top of his journal at Greg. The other man finally had a slight smile on his face as he made a purchase at Hot Topic.

* * *

Awhile later Greg finally left the computer and sat back down on the couch, handing the credit card back to Nick. 

“Thanks,” he said almost barely audible.

“No problem, G. So, what did you get? Anything good?” Nick asked, putting the credit card back into his wallet. 

“I got some clothes.”

“That’s it?”

“And one Marylin Manson cd.”

“Only one?”

Greg gulped, looking down at the book in his hands. 

“For now, yes. When I can afford them on my own, I’ll get more.”

Nick smiled, “Sure.”

“What time are they coming over?”

“About half an hour. Why?”

Greg looked at his sad clothes and fingered a hole in his shirt. 

“I’d rather they not see me like this,” he whispered. 

“You want to borrow some of my clothes until yours come?”

“No...no, I couldn’t...”

“Come on, Greg. Don’t worry about it. I just did laundry the other day so everything’s clean. I’ve got some stuff that might fit you.”

Nick got up and went into his bedroom. 

“Are you sure...?”

“Of course I’m sure. What are you in the mood for? I’ve got everything from sweats to dress clothes. Greg, get in here.”

Greg stumbled into the room, still a little unsteady on his feet. 

“You ok?”

“I’m fine. And just jeans and a t-shirt please.”

Nick went through his dresser drawers looking for something that might fit him and not look too big on him. 

“Here, you can wear these,” Nick said holding up a pair of medium wash jeans and one of his tight black t-shirts as he turned around. 

Greg swayed where he stood, looking as if his legs could hardly support him anymore. Nick dropped the clothes and was beside him in an instant, guiding him towards the bed. 

“Here, sit down. You’re probably going to have to do a lot of resting this week. Are you ok? What happened?”

“My legs are just tired. I’m ok.”

Without realizing it Nick’s hand had moved to Greg’s face, his fingers gently running over the deep purple bruises that had become more pronounced and dark over the course of the day and night. Greg’s body froze and he stopped breathing for a few seconds, wide eyes staring at Nick before he turned away in shame. Nick’s heart broke at the sight as he slowly lowered his hand to his lap.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Greg said quietly.

“But you thought I would,” Nick guessed as Greg looked guiltily at his lap.

Tears welled up in Nick’s eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“G, you’ve got to know I would never, ever hurt you.”

A knock sounded at the front door, interrupting Nick, and both men jumped. Nick took his cell phone from his belt clip. 

“What are you doing?” Greg asked, fear evident in his eyes. 

“Shhhh. Just give me a second,” Nick said, dialing a number. 

“Willows,” Catherine answered on the second ring. 

“Hey, Cath, it’s Nick.”

“Nick, we’re standing outside your door. What’s going on?” 

“Just...can you give us about fifteen minutes?”

“Yeah, sure. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”

Nick hung up and looked back at Greg who’s face had turned a light shade of green underneath the purple splotches. The fear was still evident in his eyes and seeing it made Nick angrier at Derek for putting it there. 

“Greg, honey, please listen to me. I will never, ever, ever, lay a hand on you like he did. I promise that I will protect you at all costs so that nothing like that will ever happen again. I promise. Even if I die trying. I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. And I know it will take a long time for things to change, but please know that I will always be here for you. You can trust me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Whatever you need, I will be here. I’m yours until you’re back to your old self, until you’re safe, until you determine you don’t need me anymore. And if that should ever change again, you know where to find me. Ok?”

Nick finally took a long awaited breath after getting out the words he needed to say. He searched Greg’s swollen face for any signs that he’d heard and understood what he’d just said. It was a few minutes in coming, but the slow nod and slight smile immediately made him feel better as he relaxed and wiped the tears off his face. 

“Come on, everyone’s waiting outside. You want help getting dressed?”

Without a word, Greg nodded his answer and Nick got off the bed to get the clothes he’d dropped earlier.   
  



	7. Chapter 7

Human touch had always relayed pain and fear for such a long time, he wondered how long it would be before he was able to get over it. If ever. He knew not everyone was out to hurt him. Greg liked the feel of Nick’s hands. They were always strong, yet still gentle and comforting. They way he’d always thought they would be. They never hurt him. But he still flinched whenever Nick touched him and he could see the hurt in Nick's eyes when he pulled away. He didn’t want to hurt his friend, but fear of this nature didn’t go away over night. 

With prolonged touch and nothing hurting, maybe he could get used to it again without flinching or pulling away. Maybe. As Nick guided him from the bedroom to a chair in the kitchen he kept one hand around his waist, the other on his shoulder making sure he stayed upright as they walked. And Greg felt the possibilities seep into him. Nick had promised not to hurt him and he’d seen the sincerity in his eyes, the sincerity Derek had never held. He’d felt the gentle and comforting hands that Derek had never possessed, and there was hope. 

But this was not something you talked about with a straight laced Texan. Prolonged touch. It sounded dirty and Greg was reminded of Derek. He struggled to erase the angry face from his mind. Nick was here, right beside him, keeping him safe. And he didn’t want Nick to know the extent of which...And their friends were coming. He had to be happy for them. They’d never seen him not happy, except the last time he’d been at the lab. When Nick had carried him out to the ambulance...

“They’re bringing breakfast so you may as well get settled in a chair right now. Might make things a little easier on you.”

Greg had only nodded at Nick’s words, unsure what else there was to say. On their way through the livingroom he’d stopped to grab One Door Away From Heaven, feeling the need to hold the comforting book through breakfast. He knew these people. They were friends. He told himself everything would be ok, but he was still unsure. They would see him. See him in good light for the very first time, and they would finally notice that things were not well with him and hadn’t been for a long time.

Nick pulled the kitchen table out from the wall to be able to seat more people. He settled Greg into one of the padded kitchen chairs before grabbing several metal folding chairs from between the refrigerator and the wall and setting them up. He looked at his watch. 

“Still got two minutes,” he said more to himself as he rummaged in a cupboard beneath the counter and came out with a second coffee maker. 

Greg watched with keen eyes as he brought out the bag of Blue Hawaiian coffee and started brewing some in the first coffee maker. Nick reached into the fridge again and brought out his regular blend and threw it into the second coffee maker. As he turned away from the counter he stopped when he saw Greg watching him. 

“When I said that Blue Hawaiian was yours, I meant that. Everybody else will get the regular coffee. You get your own.”

“But...why?” Greg managed to choke out. 

“Because you’re special, and you deserve it, that’s why.”

A second knock sounded on the front door and Nick went to answer it.

Greg sat staring after him, clutching the book under the table as if someone might try to take it from him. He still couldn’t understand him sometimes. He wasn’t sure why Nick was doing all of this for him. He feared it was just because they were friends. That Nick felt obligated because they were friends, and they worked together. And...but...he was going out of his way for Greg. Taking a whole week off just for him. He’d said Greg was special...what did that mean?

“Hey! Greg!” Catherine was the first into the kitchen, dropping a large paper grocery bag on the counter and giving him a warm hug. 

Greg froze, unsure what to do. He could feel her arms wrapped around him, gently pressing into him. He knew she’d been able to tell right away there was more wrong with him than just a beating. And she was making sure she was right before she said anything out loud. 

As she finally pulled away the others came into the room as well, with Nick bringing up the rear of the group. 

“Greg, you’re so thin, what happened?” Catherine asked in her best motherly voice. 

“He’s thin?” Sara piped up. “Greg, how can you be thin? Don’t you eat anything? If anyone here is thin, it should be me!”

Greg looked at the floor, a feeling of shame creeping over him again. He clutched the book harder than ever. They were his friends. They meant well, he tried to remind himself. But all he wanted to do was curl up in his shell and have them leave him alone. He didn’t want them to touch him. To know. And Sara was coming over, walking past Catherine to get a good look at him. He looked up imploringly at Nick to do something and met Warrick’s gaze instead. He trembled underneath his harsh all-seeing stare that bore into him like a hot poker putting a hole in his chest. 

“My God, Greg. You’re all purple,” Warrick nearly whispered, seeing the real Greg for the first time in a long time. 

Nick. Nick. Where was Nick? Why wasn’t he doing anything to stop them. Get them away from him. He wanted them to go away now. Forget breakfast. He’d gone many times without it in the past year. He could do it again. If it would get them to go away. Things were better when it was just him and Nick. Nick was kinder, gentler. He knew something of what had happened, but he wasn’t pressing Greg for details. He respected Greg that way. Maybe someday he would be able to tell him the whole truth. But not here. Not with these people here, questioning him like a witness...

“No, Griss. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. I have to keep my word.”

Nick’s voice! Greg heard it. But it wasn’t in the kitchen. He was...too far away...

“He really doesn’t look good. Do you think he’s getting better?” Greg heard Grissom ask.

Nick sighed, “It will take a long time. But I’m hopeful. I think he’ll turn around.”

“You’re not just meaning physically, are you?”

“No, I’m not. He...he’s been through a lot...mentally too.”

“Maybe it would be best if he went...”

“No!” Nick cut Grissom off. “He doesn’t trust people like he used to. I’m only just breaking through to him. I will not leave him for someone else to take care of. If I let him go, that sonofabitch will get to him again. Griss, I don’t know how long this will take. But if...if I have to quit CSI to take care of him...then I will.”

Greg felt his eyes widen as he looked down at the book in his hands. Nick was willing to quit his dream job...just for him? Tears sprang to his eyes as he tried to hold them back.

“Greg? Greg, honey, are you alright?” Catherine’s voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up to see the other three still watching him. Like a suspect. 

He nodded slightly, to keep their questions at bay. But it didn’t work.

“What the hell happened, man?” Warrick asked, hands on hips, as if he was in an interrogation room. 

Greg froze again. He didn’t wan to tell them anything. But they were asking. And now they knew something horrible had happened. He wasn’t being his usual spunky self. He couldn’t be. Was that part of him...was it gone? He didn’t feel light hearted. He didn’t feel like joking...he didn’t feel like much just then. 

“Come on guys, lay off him,” Nick’s easy voice came into the kitchen and Greg relaxed knowing he was there. “Grab a seat guys.”

Sara turned and shot Nick an almost nasty look but she did back away from Greg. 

“Oh, the food,” Catherine went over to the bag on the counter. “Actually, we brought omelet makings. I hope that’s alright?”

Greg looked up, he hadn’t had an omelet in a long time, and he was hungry. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Nick said, looking at Greg as he reached for a cupboard to get his skillet out. 

“Hi Greg,” his boss said, choosing a seat next to him. “How’re you doing?”

Grissom always had this calm attitude no matter what was going on. It put Greg more at ease with the situation. But it also made him feel like he couldn’t avoid answering. He was his boss after all. And he would need that job back eventually. 

“I’m ok,” he squeaked, surprised to hear his own voice sound so high. 

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad Nick’s here for you.”

And that was it. Conversation over. Greg let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. He could do this. He could do this. He told himself over and over again.   
“Greg?” Nick’s voice spoke his name quietly, asking his question in the one word no one else heard him speak. 

Greg looked up to see Nick in the middle of the floor, prying open a bag of cheese while everyone else bustled around him, chopping onions and peppers, cracking eggs open, and grabbing silverware from the drawer beside the sink. 

“It’s ok,” Greg whispered back. 

He thought he saw real concern on the Texan’s face, as if at Greg’s say so he would indeed throw everyone out without breakfast. But maybe it was just the onion getting to him. 

Nick nodded and handed the cheese over to Grissom who’d gotten up to help with the cooking. 

“Wait,” Warrick stopped, sniffing the air. “Is that? Is that Blue Hawaiian I’m smelling? I haven’t had that in months! Greg, you been keeping your stash hidden from the rest of us?”

“Oooohhh, that’s sure gonna taste delish with an omelet!” Catherine commented.

“Um, guys?” Nick spoke up, now opening a package of ham. “I’m sorry, but you’re not getting the Blue Hawaiian.”

“What?” Sara asked, astounded. “But...but....that stuff’s so good!”

“I made the rest of us regular coffee. You can put in as much cream and sugar as you want.”

“You know that won’t do much to improve the taste compared to Greg’s Blue Hawaiian,” Warrick pointed out. 

“Well, that’s too bad now isn’t it? The Blue Hawaiian is Greg’s coffee and he’s not sharing it with anyone. End of story. If you want your own, go out and get your own bag.”

“Not when there’s six cases of it on top of your fridge.”

Catherine looked up, her eyes growing wide. “Wow...that’s a lot of coffee.”

“And you can’t have any of it,” Nick enforced.

Greg sat in his chair, watching the interaction over his coffee and a small smile played on his lips. His coffee. Nick was standing by that with everything he had. And he was willing to quit his job for him. He was keeping an eye out for him, making sure he was ok. Making sure the others didn’t ask too many digging questions. It just made him love the man that much more and he wondered if Nick knew about that and what he would say if he found out. Maybe he wasn’t as straight laced as Greg thought...but then, wouldn’t anyone do this for their best friend?


	8. Chapter 8

Nick had already gone to bed on the couch, the blackout curtains blocking every ounce of sunlight from the entire apartment. But Greg couldn’t sleep. He was almost done with the book Nick had lent him with only thirteen more chapters to go and they were short. He wanted to read it, to find out what happened to the characters, but he was also afraid to finish the book. That would mean it would all be over and he wouldn’t be able to read more about the characters he’d identified with so well and grown to love. 

Greg sat up in Nick’s bed with the bedside light on. He knew Nick was in the next room sleeping soundly, but he still felt alone. And it reminded him of the nights he’d spent with Derek, chained to the wall, unable to leave the bed, even to go to the bathroom. With his boyfriend’s immense presence overpowering him, even in sleep, Greg had felt small, empty, and alone on the inside, unable to say anything of his own. The emotions and the pain that overflowed him were bottled up and stored away on a shelf, waiting to be opened on a day in the far distant future that might never come. He didn’t even cry at night when Derek was fast asleep and he wasn’t. The pain wasn’t always just physical. It was emotional too. But it was bottled up and put on the shelf with the other emotions. He’d always done his best not to cry. Even when it hurt the worst. 

During those long sleepless nights he’d always thought of Nick Stokes to drive the pain and sadness away. Nick had always managed to calm him down, help him forget the truth of his life, helped him to fall asleep eventually, even if he didn’t know it. He found himself needing to see Nick now, needing to know that the cowboy was there, keeping him safe, to see the beautiful face he’d fallen in love with so many years ago. He grabbed the flashlight from the night stand and One Door Away From Heaven before switching off the light and turning on the flashlight. He carefully crept out of the bedroom, running his fingers against the wall to help keep his balance. 

In the livingroom, Nick was sleeping peacefully on the couch, a blanket draped over his still form. Greg’s heart warmed at the sight and he smiled a small smile as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his knees nearly touching his chest. He didn’t need to be close to Nick. Didn’t want to wake him up. Just being able to see him from where he sat on the hardwood floor made him feel more comfortable. 

And he remembered that terrifying night at work. The night he couldn’t keep his balance and knocked over his coffee in front of his boss and couldn’t stand up again. He’d felt so vulnerable then, knowing they would all find out the truth he hadn’t wanted them to know. He was scared. Of his boss. Of his coworkers. And there was nothing he could do. He felt like someone had placed a shield between him and everyone else. Their voices weren’t clear. He couldn’t understand them. Didn’t understand what was going on. He just shook his head that he was fine over and over again. But he knew they were going to find out the truth. That his life sucked. And it would all be over. Everything would be over for him. 

His muscles had hurt and he’d felt like he couldn’t move anything, couldn’t get up. Couldn’t go back to work. And then the paramedics had arrived. Who’d called them? He didn’t need them. Didn’t want them. Derek would...he would...And then Nick had come barging in. Sweet Nick with the halo around his beautiful head. But Greg wanted him there least of all his friends. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything. He knew he’d said something to his co-worker. But didn’t remember what it was. And then Nick was picking him up like a White Knight come to save his princess. 

His mind had screamed. Long ago he’d learned to bottle his feelings, put them on a shelf. Keep them inside. Touch hurt. He’d learned that a long time ago too. Touch always hurt. But he tried not to cringe as his White Knight held him close and bravely carried him down the hall. He’d surprised even himself that night almost feeling comfortable in Nick’s arms after the initial brushing of bodies. But he thought that was only his many year crush getting to him again. He knew Derek would find him. 

He looked up at his White Knight sleeping soundly on the couch and the longing he’d kept bottled on the shelf inside his heart made a soft whimper through his parted lips. He held his breath for a moment, looking down at the book he clutched to his chest as he bottled the longing once again and made sure the cap was twisted tight. 

Opening the book to the bookmark Nick had thoughtfully left for him he forced himself to read. He needed to know what happened to the characters, even if he didn’t want to know. He thought he recognized himself in Leliani. She had a bad leg and a deformed hand, wore a brace to help her walk. Her step-father was going to kill her if the aliens didn’t pick her up to heal her by her tenth birthday. He knew what that felt like. He felt fear like that everyday. Even here with Nick. Derek was still out there. But Leliani had fire in her. She was fighting back with everything she had. And Greg couldn’t even do that. He felt just as broken as everyone in the lab probably thought he was. Broken, like an old child’s toy left out in the rain by the railroad tracks to rust, unwanted by anyone. Except Derek, who liked broken boys. 

Or maybe he was supposed to be the alien boy. He was living in fear too with people chasing him down, wanting to kill him. He had a constant companion in a dog. Maybe Nick was the dog, always there, always understanding. But no, Greg knew that wasn’t it. It was Micky herself, the main character. She’d gone through life changing events, the same as Nick. And now she was risking everything she had to save Leliani. Wasn’t Nick doing that now, for him? He’d found purpose in life, in himself, just like she had. An older, wiser Micky.

The White Knight he wanted to love. But couldn’t.

* * *

“So, what do you think?” Catherine asked the group huddled over the long white table in the evidence room. 

“Well, we’ve got ‘He’s mine. If I...’ that could be anything Cath,” Warrick said, looking at the message scrawled out on the whiteboard in front of him. 

“I just can’t believe this,” Sara piped up. “I mean, I saw the photos from the other two scenes. But actually seeing a third, in first person, was just...it was awful.”

“Judging from the fact that all the couples so far have been gay, I want to claim this as some gay bashing thing. Maybe...maybe it’s a woman angry that some gay guy stole her husband...wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, no, of course it doesn’t,” Catherine said. “Men are the ones who commit serial murders first of all. Second of all, if that were true, why not just go after the guy who stole her husband? Or son, or whoever.”

“Unless she’s getting revenge on every guy he ever slept with,” Sara suggested. “Look at the crime scenes. All three of them have the body tied to the bed, in some kind of sex pose, covered in blood and whip lashes.”

“At this point all we can really guess is that, if it is a woman, she’s trying to be like Lady Heather for all we know and is just using them as practice. And she sucks and goes too far.”

“That doesn’t explain the message though.”

“Nothing in this case makes sense, guys. Nothing. The only evidence we get at each scene is a message. That’s all we’ve got to go on. At this rate, I say wait, the end of the message must not be too far away. He or she is killing someone every night. I don’t want to be cruel. Don’t want to see more DBs piling up. But that’s how it looks from my angle.”

Warrick nodded agreement.

“But that’s not what I meant before.”

“What do you mean?” Sara asked.

“When I asked ‘what do you think?’ I meant about Greg.”

“Oh.”

Warrick straightened up. “I don’t know, Cath. He’s pretty bad off. Whatever it was that happened to him. Somebody beat the shit out of him, and he’s scared stiff of everyone and everything that walks and talks.”

“You saw that too?”

“How could I not?”

“And you tried to talk to him, tried to find out what happened,” Sara said to Catherine. 

“Yeah, and he closed up like a clam real quick. Nick did a lot of the talking for him. Did you catch how Nick was the one protective of Greg’s precious coffee?”

“Hell yeah. And I was dying for some of that Blue Hawaiian!”

“But it wasn’t just the coffee. He was being protective of Greg too. Like what happened was more than just a beating. All while we were eating it was like all Greg wanted to do was bolt from the table and go hide somewhere.”

“And you said he was thin too.”

“He’s not himself anymore. I don’t know what happened but something did, and it’s been taking it’s time working on him. When I went to give him that hug I felt every rib he’s got. He’s like a walking stick. You notice how he never got up. Not once?”

“Maybe he’s just sick,” Warrick suggested, working his way through the evidence like he would at a crime scene. “I mean, plenty of people get these diseases where one of the side effects is weight loss and some people are affected emotionally and everything. Right?”

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t that. If that’s all it was why the need to protect the coffee?”

“Did you see the book he was holding?” Sara asked.

“Book? Um, no, I didn’t,” Catherine said, staring at the evidence in front of them. 

“I did,” Warrick spoke up. “Didn’t see what it was but he was gripping that thing like it was the Bible and he was gonna die tomorrow.”

Sara shivered. “Don’t say that. Please.”

“What on earth are you all so serious about? Did you get something on the case?” Grissom asked, walking in. “You all look like you saw a ghost.”

“Warrick just said Greg was gonna die tomorrow,” Sara shot him an angry glance before turning to their supervisor.

“What?!” Grissom stopped in his tracks. “Greg’s not gonna die tomorrow. What gave you that impression?”

“Then you’d better tell us what you know,” Catherine glared at him. “Because it sure does seem that way to us. He’s as thin as a stick, and he’s terrified of the world all of a sudden. That’s not the Greg Sanders I know. Now, spill your guts, Griss. And don’t leave anything out.”

Grissom sighed, setting down the folder he’d been carrying and looked around the table at the CSIs. 

“I don’t know much,” he admitted. “I only know what Nick told me, and he says Greg won’t tell him much.”

“So what do you know already?”

“Nick promised Greg not to tell anyone. Including me. All he said was that he thinks Greg will be ok after some time.”

“Great. You’re the supervisor and they won’t tell you. That’s just great.”

“I’m sorry Sara, but I can’t make them tell me something they don’t want to.”

“Then tell me how we missed this, Gil. Whatever happened has obviously been happening for a long time. How did we miss this?”

“We’re trained to look into the lives of others when someone dies an unnatural death. We don’t ever expect it to be one of us so we look outside instead of in. He didn’t want anyone to know what was going on and he hid it well. He’s a CSI, and he’s good at his job.”

* * *

Nick blinked, slowly coming to after a deep sleep that had left him well rested. When he saw the fabric of the couch in front of his face, though, everything that had happened with Greg came slamming into his face. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and that’s when he saw him. He did a double-take, thinking his sleepy eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren’t. Greg had fallen asleep sitting on the hardwood floor several yards away. His knees were nearly touching his chest and he appeared to be clutching something in his lap. Even in sleep, however, he was curled up tighter than a ball, too afraid to loosen up a little. 

Nick’s heart broke at the sight as he got up and went over to him. In his lap was the book, his bookmark at the very end, and a flashlight.

“Greg? Greg, honey, wake up.”

Nick was careful not to touch him, even though all he wanted to do was scoop him up in his arms and settle him back into bed without having to wake him up. If it hadn’t been for the swollen and bruised face Greg would have been adorable in sleep just then. 

“Greg?”

Slowly, the other man’s eyes fluttered open. Nick backed a step away to give Greg his personal space as he looked around and realized where he was. 

“Nick? Did I wake you up?”

“No, honey, you didn’t. It’s almost six. About time we were getting up anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, let’s get some dinner, shall we? You need help getting up?”

Greg looked down at his thin legs covered in Nick’s baggy sweat pants and then back up at Nick. The look of a sad and lost puppy had returned to his face again. 

“I’m sorry, Nick. I don’t want to have to put you through all this. But...my legs...I think they cramped up. I can’t move them.” 

“Greg, you’re not putting me through anything I don’t want to be put through. Will you let me pick you up? I’ll give you dinner in bed. Best dinner you ever ate, I promise.”

Greg gulped, fear crossing his eyes for a moment before he nodded his ascent. Nick was careful to be gentle as he scooped the younger man up into his arms. 

“There’s a nice park not too far away from here. What do you say we go for a short walk after dinner, I know we could both use the exercise.” Nick suggested after getting Greg settled back in bed with the comforter covering his thin form. 

Greg shook his head. “No, I...I don’t want to go out.”

“Only a few days ago you couldn’t wait to leave and go back home. What happened?”

“Those are two different things. And...and...I can’t...go home...not now...not any more...”  
Greg’s face betrayed his shame, as he stumbled through his words, no matter how hard he appeared to be trying to hide it. 

“You should know I’m not going to send you back there. But, why can’t you go back? I thought you wanted to?”

“No. I had to. To cook. The place was dirty.”

“Greg, it was spotless when I went to get you.”

“It was dirty,” the younger CSI insisted. 

“This is about Derek, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been gone too long. I...I...I disobeyed him. If I go back now...he’ll kill me.”

Greg’s voice had become so quiet, Nick almost had a hard time hearing his words. His throat became thick and tight. Greg wasn’t being sarcastic. He’d meant what he said. Nick looked up into Greg’s eyes and found them wide, in shock at the words he’d just uttered. 

“I didn’t....no....I mean...I didn’t...I didn’t mean that...Nick, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” Nick said as calmly as his churning stomach would allow, forgetting about the large breakfast he’d been planning for Greg. 

A look of fear escaped Greg’s eyes for just a moment before it was put away somewhere deep inside him where Nick couldn’t see it. He held onto the comforter as if it would hide him from the hurtful world around him. 

“You’re safe here, Greg. You know that right? I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I will not let him get you. I swear he will never touch you again.”

Greg only nodded at the words, but it wasn’t one of agreement or thankfulness. He was only nodding to give the response Nick had wanted. He didn’t believe him, Nick knew. Gaining Greg’s further trust would take time, that was all. There was nothing he could do, nothing more he could say right now to convince the man. 

“Alright then, I’m going to go make some french toast. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Nick said.

Out in the kitchen Nick slumped into a chair and covered his face in his hands. Tears came to his eyes and leaked out from underneath his hands, running down his cheeks. Greg was still scared of this Derek. Even in Nick’s own home. Even with Nick promising not to let the man get to him again. He was still scared! But even with Derek gone for good, either in prison where he belonged, or in his grave where he equally belonged, Nick knew it would take a lot longer than a week for Greg to get over everything that had been done to him. And maybe he never would be able to get over everything. And he wondered what would happen once the week was up. Both of them, at least Nick anyway, would have to go back to work. He’d told his boss he would quit for Greg’s health and safety if he had to. But the truth of it was, he couldn’t. Not financially anyway. He knew he’d have to support Greg for awhile. He’d have to go back to work eventually because there was no way Greg could go back. Not like this. 

Nick wanted to be able to protect Greg forever, but he knew he couldn’t. After his relationship with Derek Greg would never accept Nick in that way. Might never accept anyone that way ever again. But it wasn’t just that. He knew, from past sessions with his own therapist, Greg would need to be able to stand on his own two feet in order to live a full, happy and healthy life, whether Nick was a large part of it or not. Nick just had to get him to that stage first.

Remembering Greg waiting for his breakfast in the other room, Nick reluctantly got up and attempted to dry his eyes before grabbing his skillet and pulling a loaf of bread off the shelf. But his tears refused to stop. His heart was breaking just thinking about Greg and what Derek had done to him, to ruin him. He set the skillet and the bread on the counter and collapsed back into the chair, burying his head in his arms on the table. Nick began to sob, letting out all the emotions he’d been harboring since he’d walked into the crime lab that night to find Greg in pain.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that, letting the tears fall, soaking into his long sleeved shirt. But when he’d finally calmed down enough to pay attention to the rest of the world he heard a faint voice calling his name. 

“Nick?” It was Greg. 

He quickly brushed the tears away and coughed a little to gain his voice back. 

“Yeah, Greg?” 

He knew his eyes were red rimmed by now. He knew Greg would notice, and would know what had happened. 

“I thought you were coming back?”

“Yeah, I’m coming. I’m sorry. I burned the bread. I have to start over. I’ll be in in a minute. Ok?”

“Sure.”

Nick brushed his sleeve harshly at his face, trying to get the lingering tears off his skin before he took the milk, eggs, and real Vermont maple syrup from the fridge and began to cook. 


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh God,” Sara gagged and stepped out of the room.   


“You ok, Sara?” her supervisor asked, concern in his voice and on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Once that stupid....jerk...is behind bars! How the hell can he keep doing this?!”

Warrick, having gotten used to this already, held his breath as he shook his head in Sara’s direction, and entered the blood spattered room. Catherine was right behind him. 

“Can’t blame her, really,” she said, waving her hand in front of her face to ward off the smell. 

The scene was the same as all the others. The male DB had been tied to the bed, naked, and whiplashed across the chest and back. Blood had spattered over everything and the word “can’t” had been written on the wall. 

“I want evidence, people,” Grissom said coming into the room as if there was no smell and no dead body at all. 

Sara walked behind him, plugging her nose, as she looked around the room, a scowl on her face. 

“I’m gonna kill this bastard for hurting innocent people!” she said in an odd voice due to her nose being plugged.

“Say that again, Sara?” Warrick asked, with a slight grin. 

She gave him a nasty look and he backed away.

“No joking around here. Find me evidence. I don’t want him killing someone else tomorrow night!”

“Shit,” Catherine’s voice came across the room to where Warrick was looking over the word on the wall.

Everyone turned to her.

“He tamed them first, gained control they didn’t want to give up in their own homes.”

“What do you mean?” Warrick asked, walking to her side, careful of the blood on the floor. 

She pointed to a thin leather collar around the victim’s neck. 

“What do you mean? I don’t get it?” Sara had unplugged her nose and her voice was back to normal now. 

“This collar has no blood on it,” Catherine explained. “But the rest of the room does. So does the body. It’s everywhere. Everywhere, but this collar.”

“So,” Grissom took over her theory. “He tames them first before claiming them as his own with the dog collars.”

“That’s a good theory given the evidence here,” Warrick pointed toward the body. “But that doesn’t account for the others. They didn’t have collars. And the evidence never suggested they ever had one on.”

“Then maybe we’re not dealing with a professional,” Grissom said. “He may have known what he was doing to keep evidence in check, but now things have gotten out of control for him. He thought he’d get his man back by now. But he hasn’t. So he’s acting out, reacting to his emotions which are probably unstable by this point. He’s angry, and he’ll do anything to get what he wants now.”

* * *

Greg picked up the spoon and dried it off with the towel before sliding it into a drawer in Nick’s kitchen. Nick had finally let him help out and he was drying the dishes Nick had washed a few minutes ago before his phone had started to ring. Now he was in the livingroom talking to someone, while Greg continued to dry the dishes. 

Another spoon and then his eyes landed on the sharp knife as he slowly picked it up, trying to be careful of the blade. A harsh pain pierced his finger and he looked down to see a drop of blood seeping from his skin onto the knife. He’d jumped initially at the pain, but managed to keep his balance. The pain wasn’t that bad. It was physical pain, not emotional. He looked at his wrists which had finally begun to yellow, the purple bruises almost gone. But in Greg’s mind, they never would be gone. He would always see them. Every time he looked in a mirror he would see purple covering his face, he would always remember how it felt to be so thin he could barely stand up. 

Nick was willing to do anything for him. That’s what he’d say now. But years from now? Greg knew this wasn’t something you shook off easily. Derek was still out there and would be looking for him. Even in the comfort of Nick’s own home, he would always be scared. Always wondering when Derek would find him and hurt him again. But not just himself. He would have stayed with Derek, if Nick hadn’t gotten in the way. Derek would hurt Nick too, and he knew he couldn’t handle that. Nick had been there for him. Was his White Knight. He couldn’t let that happen to him. 

He had to stop being a burden to Nick. Nick didn’t deserve him. He would never be himself again, and that’s what Nick wanted most of all. He would only succeed in bringing Nick down with him, if they stayed together. And he wanted to always remember Nick as being happy and supportive. Not depressed and needing support, like he was himself. 

Greg needed to get the pain out of himself, to see more of that blood dripping down his finger, down his arm from his wrist. It would make him feel better, maybe get Derek out of him. He could be at peace that way. Peace. That was something he hadn’t known in a long time. He couldn’t expect Nick to take care of him forever. And Derek would come for him eventually. He would be forced to go back. Nick would be better off without him. He could save both their lives. Hell, the whole team would be better off without him. He was their weak link. They didn’t need him. No one needed him. 

He absentmindedly began running the flat side of the blade up and down his arm. He wasn’t drawing blood but he could feel the sharpness of the steel, and it felt good in a strange way. It wasn’t the same as someone else touching him, someone else hurting him. He had control. He could go as far as he wanted. And he was wanting to take this train all the way to the last stop. Nick would never love him. Greg had been hoping on it for years now, but he knew his old dreams would never come true. If they did, then maybe he might have a chance to turn his stupid life around. But Nick was just a concerned friend looking out for him. That was all. 

He may have been Leliani with Micky to save him and protect him, but part of what had saved her little life was the fire she had inside, the fire that made her want to live, and he knew he didn’t have that anymore. There was hope though, if Nick felt the same way he did, if his prolonged touch idea worked, if Nick would even let it happen. But he knew the Texan wouldn’t. 

He couldn’t possibly feel the same way. Greg was used. No longer full of life as he had been when he’d met Derek. Even if Nick was into men, he wouldn’t want one that was as used and broken as he was. Besides, hadn’t he dated Kristy ages ago? He was just a concerned friend. And it would be better for him if he didn’t have to worry about Greg all the time. 

A sharp pain coursed up his arm and he looked down to see blood beginning to rise to the surface of his skin along the narrow cut he’d absentmindedly made down the length of his forearm. There was pain, but it felt good. He was in control of it this time. It wasn’t like Derek was anywhere near him. He knew what he was doing. Everything was going to be ok. He even found himself smiling, at his new found freedom to produce his own pain. 

“That was just Cath....” Nick’s voice reached him and he whirled around, not wanting Nick to see him until it was too late, until there was nothing he could do to save him. 

Nick stopped in the doorway, his eyes locked on Greg’s bleeding arm and the kitchen knife in his other hand. Greg watched, silent, as Nick’s eyes widened in fear. Nick raised his eyes from his arm to his own eyes. Disbelief mixed with the fear, a deep fear Greg had never seen there before, one that went deeper than that which he’d seen on the computer screen when Nick was buried alive. And he remembered the other day when tears had come to Nick’s eyes because he was afraid Nick would hurt him. And at dinner earlier, he’d never smelled burned bread, but he thought he’d heard sobs coming from the kitchen. Did best friends cry like that over each other? 

Nick was speechless as he stood frozen to the spot. Sadly, it reminded Greg of his first time in the field, when he’d frozen on Nick and the injured man had died in front of them. Now, maybe Nick would understand what he’d been going through then. 

Blood dripped from his arm onto the floor and he wanted nothing more than to finish the job he’d started out to do but he knew it was over. He couldn’t do it. Nick was there, he’d seen everything. And that look in his eyes, there was something about it that made him not want to finish the job, as much as he wanted to. 

The cordless phone in Nick’s hand began to ring all of a sudden, breaking the silence. Nick looked down at the phone, as if realizing it was there for the first time, as if he was a caveman who hadn’t ever used the invention before. Then he looked back up at Greg, a helpless look now mixing with the fear and disbelief. 

“Answer the phone,” Greg said, surprising even himself with his calm voice. 

Nick appeared to be struggling with his actions. He clearly wasn’t sure he should do what Greg had said. He looked at the display. 

“It’s Grissom,” he said, his voice soft and shaky.

“Answer it. If you don’t, you know he’ll call Brass about it and you’ll have five squad cars parked out front within minutes.”

Greg set the knife down gently in the sink to prove to Nick that he would be ok. Nick, still looking scared, managed to put the phone to his ear and answer it. 

* * *

“That was just Cath,” Nick said, hanging up the phone as he went back into the kitchen. 

Greg whirled around as he stopped in the doorway. Blood. There was blood. Blood, all along his arm. No....no....it was no accident...Greg held one of his kitchen knives in his other hand, in a purposeful position. Blood dripped from it. He felt fear rising within his heart, within his whole body. He looked up at Greg’s face, into his eyes, how could he have done this? Why? But the look he received was one he’d never seen from Greg before, not even in the few days since taking him to the hospital. But he couldn’t place what it was exactly. He only knew one thing. Greg had tried to kill himself. Greg had tried to kill himself. Those words ran over and over again like an electronic marquee inside his brain. Greg had tried to kill himself. But he didn’t know what to do. Surely he should be doing something, but he felt frozen to the spot, unable to move. 

A ringing sound reached his ears suddenly piercing the silent night. He looked down at the phone, realizing it was still in his hand, but he didn’t answer it. He couldn’t. Not after what had just happened. But he didn’t know what to do, how he should act. He couldn’t move. Didn’t want to answer the phone. 

And then Greg’s own voice, cool and calm, had reached his ears, “answer the phone.”

Where on earth had this calmness come from? Greg hadn’t been calm in a long time, hell, he’d never been calm for as long as Nick had known him. But he couldn’t answer the phone because Greg was bleeding. He looked back down at the phone and realized who was calling. 

“It’s Grissom,” he said, his voice showing Greg just how scared he really was. 

“Answer it. If you don’t, you know he’ll call Brass about it and you’ll have five squad cars parked out front within minutes.”  
Nick watched as Greg set the knife in the sink, attempting to prove that he would be ok, so that Nick could answer the phone. He was still terrified of what had just happened, the marquee still running through his head. Greg had tried to kill himself. But somehow he managed to answer the phone. 

“Stokes,” he said, trying to get his voice back to normal. Grissom couldn’t know what had just happened, that one of his top CSIs was scared shitless and that another had just attempted suicide. 

“Nick? Are you alright?” his boss’s always calm voice came over the line. 

Nick looked over at Greg, who didn’t seem scared, or in pain. He almost looked happy in fact. Nick wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

“I’m fine,” he said to Grissom. “Just woke me up is all. What’s up?”

“I was just calling to let you know that you two have the rest of the week before you have to tell me what’s going on. I don’t care what Greg says. I need to know because it’s affecting your work.”

“Yeah, I know. I understand where you’re coming from,” Nick said, finally finding his voice and his brain still functioning. “I’ll talk to him about it. But you at least have to promise not to tell anyone else. This cannot become gossip around the lab.”

“Nick, you know I don’t spread gossip. Something this serious, you know I’m not going to tell anyone. Not even Ecklie.”

“Thanks Griss. That means a lot. To both of us.”

Nick disconnected the phone line and looked back up at Greg who hadn’t moved an inch while he’d been on the phone. That small glint of happiness was gone now. There was no pain visible on his face, even though his arm was still dripping blood onto the floor. Instead, there seemed a small glimmer of hope, still left inside. But hope for what, Nick wasn’t sure as his eyes radiated an emptiness that seemed to fill the rest of his body, that said he’d already let go of everything important in his life so that he could move on, so that he could use the knife on himself. 

He was still terrified of what had happened, but he knew he couldn’t let that get in the way of anything. He still had to be strong for Greg, still had to be there for him in every way possible. He would show him, somehow, that life was going to be ok. And when he found out exactly who Derek was, he’d have him arrested and sent to prison for attempted murder. After he beat the crap out of him.


	10. Chapter 10

Nick lay on the couch, curled up into a tight ball. He felt empty, confused, lost, and hurt. He didn’t know what to do. Before curling up on the couch he’d put in an old Leann Rimes cd so he could listen to one of his favorite songs that usually calmed him down and made him happy. But now, as he lay listening to it, “Feels Like Home” wasn’t doing it’s usual job. He tried to keep his mind on the lyrics but they reminded him of Greg so much he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get through the song. Thinking of Greg usually calmed him down but not anymore. 

<i>‘In your eyes I find the answers to my questions.  
In your arms, yeah, I found the world I've waited for.  
In your touch, I've found everything I ever needed.  
I need nothing more.  
Always dreamed of the day when  
My dream would find me.  
Now my dream's beside me.  
You are in my life.  
In your arms I know where I belong.  
I've never known this feeling, oh,  
But it feels like home.  
In your eyes I know what I can be.  
You opened up your heart to me.  
And it Feels Like Home.  
When I'm with you, baby,  
It Feels Like Home.’</i>

Nothing could be called home ever again. His dreams of one day coming out to Greg were smashed. There could be no relationship with the man he loved. Hot stinging tears came to his eyes and rolled down his face. His heart felt as if it was literally breaking in half. His body heat had left him awhile ago and he was shaking. Not just from the lack of heat, but also because he was scared. He didn’t know what would happen next.   


As the song played out and the next one started up, he found a need to see Greg, to make sure he was alright. Nick stood up from the couch, the blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He let the cd play on and slipped into his bedroom where Greg was sleeping. The younger CSI was sound asleep, facing him, his chest rising and sinking slowly in a deep sleep. Nick let out a breath of air he’d been holding. He was still alive, still there. There was still hope. 

Greg’s arm was still bandaged from wrist to elbow in a bright white bandage spotted with his dark red blood. Nick remembered hanging up the phone from talking with Catherine and walking in on Greg with the knife. He was still shocked over it, still surprised. He’d thought he’d broken through to him, thought Greg was on the mend, even if it was slow. But he’d been wrong. He was breaking down on the inside faster than Nick knew how to put him back together. And earlier that night he’d completely fallen apart. 

He knew he should have called someone, a therapist perhaps, to help Greg, but he was afraid of distancing him even more. But now, things had turned a wrong corner and he was equally afraid of losing Greg forever. He dreaded the day he’d be attending his funeral and prayed they were both old in age when that happened. Nick, still shaking, slid down the wall to the floor, where he sat huddled, his knees up to his chest, the blanket wrapped tightly around him. His tears continued to fall but he kept his eyes on Greg, watching him breathe, as the scene from the kitchen replayed itself in his mind:

<i> Nick, unsure what to do, never having faced a situation like this one before, slowly walked toward Greg. He kept his eyes on the other man as he set the phone down on the table. He knew he had to stop the bleeding, but that was it. Beyond that he had no clue what to do, other than to love and care for him as best he could. Without blinking, he reached out and took the dishtowel Greg was loosely holding in his left hand. Gently, he took the other man’s hand in his and began to clean up the blood with the towel. 

He knew it had to sting, the feeling of the towel on the long cut, but Greg didn’t show any emotion at all. Nick knew it was Derek who had done this to him, who had taught him, whether on purpose or not, to shut off his emotions, even in the company of friends. Nick did his best to keep his anger in check, though he wanted to beat Derek to a pulp right then and there and ask questions later. But Greg didn’t need that. Not now. 

“Let me finish,” Greg’s voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter. 

Nick looked up, into his face, into his eyes, confusion clouding his mind, but he couldn’t read Greg’s expression. 

“What?”

“Just...leave me here. Alone. Let me finish it. Please.”

Dawning on what he’d meant came to Nick. His heart tightened, and threatened to break in half, but he managed to hold it together, if only just barely. 

“No,” he gritted his teeth. 

Nick didn’t know how he’d managed to keep it so short. There was so much he wanted to say. No, no he didn’t want him to finish the job because he didn’t want to lose Greg because he loved him with everything he had. And if he lost Greg, he knew he’d fall apart himself, completely and wholly. He’d go out the same way Greg wanted to. Until then he just had to be strong for him, to carry him forward until he could stand on his own two feet again.</i>

* * *

“Nick?” Greg’s calm, quiet voice reached out to Nick in sleep. 

Nick’s eyes fluttered open and he realized he was sitting on the hardwood floor of his bedroom, still huddled against the wall. He looked up to see Greg laying in bed, looking over at him. 

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Nick realized he had done the same thing Greg had done only a few nights ago and he’d never asked him why he’d ended up on the floor. Maybe it had been for the same reason he was there now. Maybe. 

He looked up into Greg’s face, trying to find some emotions, even if it was just fear. Anything would do right now. There was a glimmer of something. Hope maybe? Nick wasn’t sure. Hope had been there before. But was it hope that he’d get to finish the job he’d started the night before? 

“Probably the same thing you did the other night,” he said, stretching his legs out. 

He didn’t get up, as much as he wanted to he was afraid he’d go to Greg and violate the man’s personal space. That glimmer grew brighter for a moment before it disappeared again. Hope. It was definitely hope. But hope over sleeping on the floor? Why had Greg been sleeping on the floor the other night? Nick wished he’d asked, but was afraid it was too late now. 

“Nick, why are you doing all this for me?” Greg asked in a near whisper as if he was afraid of the answer and afraid of Nick’s emotional response. But he continued, “Why did you offer to quit CSI for me? Why did you offer to buy me clothes? Why were you crying last night? You never did burn the french toast either...” he paused. “I’m sorry...I overheard,” he said now looking very ashamed of himself, but yet again he soldiered on with his questions, “Why did you stop me last night? I know you don’t know the details, but you know my life is shit and I don’t want you giving up the job you love just for me. So, why all this for me? You know I don’t deserve it.”

Nick looked down at the hands clasped in his lap. Greg was finally asking questions, was showing emotions again, even if it was only shame. It was something. He tried to hold back the tears but they fell again and he felt like crying was all he could do since Greg had arrived. He wanted to be strong for him, but it wasn’t working. The salty drops fell silently and landed with splashes on his hands. He knew what he had to do. Greg was at the bottom of the barrel, and he had to tell him the truth before he attempted to leave the world, Nick, again. He had to come out to him, tell him how he felt. His heart skipped a beat and then began to pound. He wanted to tell him, in hopes that it would make them both happy, yet he was worried how Greg would take it. But there was nothing he could do now except tell the truth. 

Nick sighed and tried to calm himself, taking several deep breaths, but his words still came out shaky, “I...I...because...I love you,” he finally blurted. 

Greg stopped breathing for a moment and stared at him wide eyed. And it was Nick’s turn to look down in shame. 

“But I’m used and broken. Why would you want me?”

There was no questioning Nick’s sexuality like he’d thought. Greg had accepted it easily. When Nick looked up again, that glimmer of hope had grown again, but he was still suppressing his feelings and emotions as much as he could. Had Nick hit the nail on the head? 

He took another deep breath before he spoke, “I always have,” he found himself whispering. “Ever since I first met you, I knew you were special. I never told you because I was afraid of how you’d react. Now I wish I had that first time in the lab. I don’t care what happened before. I still love you. That hasn’t changed at all.” Nick stopped his fast paced talking and began in a slower mode, “I know after what happened you’re not ready for another relationship right away. Maybe never. You can take all the time you want to think about it. But just know that I’m always here for you, no matter what you need. You deserve the whole world Greg. Your life doesn’t have to be like this. I can help you get back to a good life. Even if you don’t want me in it later on, I’ll still help you as much as I can. It’s all I can do.”

Nick watched as Greg gulped and slowly nodded. Greg didn’t say what he thought of his final confession or gave any hint to his emotions, though Nick certainly didn’t expect him to right off the bat. He didn’t know how to broach the subject of the suicide attempt the night before, except to honestly tell him how he felt, to offer all the support he could and the reason for that support. If that couldn’t bring him back from the brink, Nick didn’t know what would. 

“We should probably change that wrap on your arm,” Nick said, standing up. “If you stay here I’ll be right back.”

Nick got stiffly to his feet and went to the bathroom where Greg had actually let him bandage his arm the night before. The bloody dishtowel was still in the sink and the paper and boxes from the bandages were still littering the floor. Slowly he bent down to pick them up and throw them out. He looked at the towel but didn’t touch it before taking what was left of the one long white bandage, tape, and Neosporin back to the bedroom where Greg had waited patiently. 

Greg pushed himself up to lean against the headboard and held out his injured left arm to Nick, as the older CSI sat on the edge of the bed. Carefully he unwrapped the arm, revealing the long cut that hadn’t begun to heal yet. Nick flinched at the sight, but not because he was afraid of blood or cuts, but because of how Greg had gotten it. A wave of sadness washed over him, and he had to fight his emotions for control. 

He was so glad the cut hadn’t been deep enough to need stitches. He wanted to ask Greg how it felt, if it hurt at all, but he wasn’t sure the answer he would get. He hadn’t been getting any emotional feedback from him so he was afraid his efforts would be wasted. 

“How does it feel? Does it hurt any?”

But, he’d just admitted his feelings, and asking would show how much he cared, might sway Greg back from the edge. 

“Only a little,” came Greg’s reply. 

Nick looked up into Greg’s face, surprised. He’d expected a solid no. Greg’s eyes clearly met his though they didn’t show a hint of emotions or pain. When Greg looked away a few seconds later, he went back to redressing his arm. It should have hurt more than a little with the size of it, but any admittance of pain was a good one and Nick accepted it readily. 

“I’m going to get some dinner,” he said when he’d finished. “We’ve been cooped up in here for several days and I know we both need to get some exercise. Can I convince you to go for a walk afterwards? At least around the block once or twice?” Nick stood up, hoping and praying Greg would agree. “I’ll be there, right beside you and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll keep anything and everything, everyone, away from you, if you want.” 

“Do you have a long sleeved shirt?” Greg asked, not looking up to meet his eyes again.

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe.” 


	11. Chapter 11

Nick was glad that Greg could walk easily on his own now, despite everything that he’d been through. And his bruises were going away too. Nick inwardly flinched, remembering how Greg had been black and blue all over, remembering the x-rays of the healed facial fractures that had shown repeated beatings. But Greg was on the mend. Since Nick had come clean and told him how he really felt, he hadn’t said a single word against it. However, nor had he been jumping for joy. His eyes looked guarded over dinner, but he had agreed to go on the walk with Nick. And Nick was glad to be finally getting some fresh air and exercise, even if they were walking slow for Greg’s benefit. While they walked, Nick was ever on the alert for anyone who looked like they wanted to harm Greg though they hadn’t seen anyone except an elderly woman out walking her dog across the street. Nick was also careful of Greg’s balance. His arms hung at his sides but he was prepared to catch the man should he falter. 

He knew the attempted suicide would hang over them both for a long time until Greg was in the clear, until Derek was no longer a threat to him and he’d moved on in his life. He kept reminding himself that what Greg was going through right now with everything, including his touch issues, could possibly last forever. If Greg ever accepted him as his boyfriend, as a permanent part of his life, he knew he’d have to live with it all, even if there was no permanence and they stayed only coworkers. And he was prepared to do so. His mind carried him away to a future he both liked and disliked:

Nick bent close to the ground, scrutinizing a group of cigarette butts in the dirt before tweezing a few of them into an evidence bag. Looking up he could see his boyfriend a few yards away sizing up a few shoe treads while bopping to the music from his Ipod. Probably Marilyn Manson. Nick smiled and moved away from the cigarettes when someone caught his eye. He looked up and saw a police officer moving toward Greg, calling his name. But Greg was oblivious to everything around him at the moment as he jotted something down on his notepad. The officer was reaching out to lightly touch Greg’s shoulder when Nick was on his feet and running in a split second. 

“No!” he shouted. “Don’t touch him!”

The cop looked up at Nick’s running body, confusion written all over his face. 

“Don’t you ever touch him,” Nick warned, realizing just how possessive he really was over Greg, even though he hadn’t meant it that way at all. 

He walked around to face Greg and knelt down in front of him, getting his boyfriend’s attention at once. Greg looked up and smiled, the look in his eyes clearly telling Nick he was controlling his emotions and the urge to pounce on him as best he could only because they were at work. 

“Time to take the ear buds out, babe,” Nick said in a low voice once Greg could hear him. “Cop wants to talk to you,” he nodded in the direction of the cop who still had a confused look on his face, and together they stood up to face him. 

Nick came out of his dream feeling happy, yet heartbroken. Of course this would affect Greg for the rest of his life. It still burned him that someone could hurt someone else so badly. He wished Derek would show up right then, try to take Greg away, just so that he could beat him to a pulp, beat him until he was nothing but a pile of goo that not even Doc Robbins could get evidence from. 

They’d walked around the block twice already but not once did Greg say anything or seem as if he wanted to go back just yet. Nick knew Greg was scared of Derek finding him, but he seemed to be ok right then. Nick had hopes it was because he was there, promising to protect him from every living creature, or that he was finally coming out of his shell and was less scared. Nick wanted to ask what Greg was thinking, but was afraid of the answer just the same. Sure on the outside Greg didn’t seem put off at Nick’s coming out. But on the inside? Greg had been with a man, Derek, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. And after what Derek had done to him, there was a strong chance Greg would want to stay single for the rest of his life. Maybe get a dog, but nothing more. Nick would understand that. He tried to put himself in Greg’s shoes, to see how he would feel after everything that had happened, but all he wanted was a fairytale ending, meeting the prince that would take him home, care for him and love him. That’s what he thought now, because he hadn’t lived through it like Greg had. He wouldn’t have the same permanent emotional scars for the rest of his life. His emotional scars would be from seeing Greg this way and knowing another man had done this to him. 

If only he could just take Greg’s hand right then, give him the fairytale ending he deserved, and make everything better.

If only...

* * *

Greg walked silently beside Nick on their walk around the block. He remembered feeling empty the night before. Remembered the feel of the blade against his skin, the one way out from all the pain that he could control. The way that would mean Nick wouldn’t have to quit his job, or sacrifice any more of himself just for him. He’d wanted it to work out so badly. But now he wasn’t so sure. When Nick had spoken to him before dinner, he’d realized that all those emotions he’d bottled up and put away on a shelf were still there, still deep inside his heart. They weren’t gone yet. He just had to reach in and uncork them. And he almost wanted to. But that was a hard process. It was true he’d loved Nick since he’d first set eyes on him, but admitting to that was something else all together. He wasn’t a whole person anymore and he’d kept his emotions bottled for so long he wasn’t sure what would happen when they were uncorked. But he knew they would have to be if he ever admitted how he felt.

Right now, he was still so in shock over Nick’s words that it was easy to keep the emotions bottled for awhile longer. Inside, away from Nick and the outside world, he was almost angry that Nick had come out to him. Why would such a good looking man with the most beautiful Texan accent want anyone like himself when he could have any man or woman he wanted? It didn’t make sense to Greg. And he also knew, that even if Derek disappeared off the face of the earth right then and there and was never heard from again, if he went to Nick, he would be going with burdens that Nick would have to bear as well. He was a broken man and nothing, not even Nick’s love for him, no matter how great it was, could heal all of his wounds. He was broken and would only succeed in dragging Nick down with him, something he couldn’t have. Nick shouldn’t want to be with him. 

But he did. He’d proven it time and time again over the past few days. And tonight he’d come right out and said it. Greg wanted to cry. He couldn’t believe there was someone out there who didn’t care what he looked like, or the fact that he’d been in a bad relationship that could very well have ruined the rest of his life. There was someone who cared so much for him that he was willing to give up everything he’d worked hard for. It felt like a dream come true, like a fairytale.   
He felt the need to protect Nick from getting hurt too, by finishing the job from the night before. Nick loved him, but Greg wasn’t right for him, he’d hurt Nick in the end, and he wanted Nick to be happy. The blade was calling his name, and he was unsure about answering it. Nick hadn’t hurt him yet, had promised not to, promised to protect him. Nick had been so selfless lately, all for him, had been willing to quit his job to take care of him. 

Greg remembered seeing the six cases of his favorite coffee in Nick’s kitchen, remembered running to the other man and hugging him. Nick hadn’t yelled at him, turned away from him, or hurt him in any way like Derek would have. He flinched inwardly thinking of the beating he would have received if it had been his ex-boyfriend and not Nick. Derek hadn’t had a job in a long time. He spent his days on Greg’s paychecks, not allowing Greg access to his cashed checks. But Nick was paying for everything not allowing Greg to worry about paying him back someday when he could afford it. Derek had hurt him and Nick had always been gentle, even when rushing him to the ambulance. Derek had never said he loved him, and Nick had said so only a few hours ago. 

The knife still called to him in an angry, pleading tone. But Nick was also calling to him, in a gentle, loving voice. 

* * *

Warrick and Catherine walked into the leather shop, and looked around at all the merchandise. One whole wall was dedicated to collars and leads. They ignored everything else and went to inspect the collars. Warrick carried the collar they’d taken off the victim from the night before in an evidence bag and he studied it carefully before inspecting the wall for a similar work.

“What can I do for you fine people?” the owner asked coming over to them. 

He was a few inches shorter than Warrick, with snow white hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. 

Catherine turned to face him first. 

“Hi, we’re from the crime lab, I’m Catherine Willows and this is Warrick Brown. Do you mind if we as you a few questions?”

The little man looked around the shop for a second. 

“Well, no one else is here, so why not? I’m Ben Rogers, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Ben. Um, what is your customer base for these collars and leads specifically, would you say?”

The man thought about it, looking over the collection she’d indicated. 

“Well, honestly, most of my business is through Lady Heather,” he hesitated. “Surely, people such as yourselves know who she is?”

Warrick was now facing him as well and they both nodded. 

“But I do have a few independent buyers not related to her. And, there are a few actual dog owners as well. You know, I do make custom slip collars specifically for Greyhounds!”

Both CSIs looked confused and he clarified, “Greyhounds are the fastest dog in the world, and can run up to forty miles per hour. Because their heads are so sleekly shaped an owner has to be careful otherwise they could easily get out of a regular collar and run away. They’re sight hounds so a small furry animal in the distance would get their attention and they’d be off and running without a moments notice. A slip collar,” he said, pulling one off the rack to show them, “actually stays loose and tightens when it needs to keep the dog under control. It doesn’t hurt them at all and they can’t slip out of it. A lot of Greyhound owners like to lavish their dogs with nice collars so I custom tool these for them. They’re my biggest client base out of all dog breed owners.”

The collar he was holding had an intricate pattern of hand-tooled roses on it. 

Warrick nodded, knowing this was not the information they needed. 

“Well, we’re looking for someone, possibly through Lady Heather.” 

He showed the man the collar in the bag. 

“We’re looking to find out who bought this collar.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

The CSI handed him the bag and he scrutinized it thoroughly. 

Warrick’s cell phone chose that moment to ring and he stepped away to answer it when he saw Grissom’s name on the call screen. 

“Brown.”

“Warrick, have you and Catherine gotten anywhere with that collar yet?”

“We’re working on it now.”

“Good. I’ve got more evidence for you.”

“Another body?” 

Warrick wasn’t even surprised by the news as he looked over more collars and leads a short distance away from his colleague and the store owner. 

“Yes. Everything’s the same as the others. The word on the wall is ‘have’ and there is a collar on this victim too. There’s something tooled into it this time.”

“Huh?”

Grissom described the new collar in detail. 

“Huh. I wonder what that means?”

“I don’t know but it might help you on your end.”

“Yeah, thanks Griss.”

Warrick hung up and went back to the other two. The owner was shaking his head. 

“You’re sure you don’t remember?” Catherine was asking. 

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Hold up here, we’ve got more evidence. Another collar was just found. It’s black with dark red blood drops?”

The man looked down at the first collar now in Catherine’s hands, and up at Warrick, his eyes going wide. 

“So, you remember?” Catherine asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember him now. Yes. He wasn’t with Lady Heather. He was independent. No dog either. Used to be a regular here.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have credit card receipts, would you?”

“He always paid in cash.”

“So, he was a regular? What do you mean by that? Did he buy these collars once a week or something?”

“No, no, those he bought all at once. The others, he bought not really at regular intervals, but maybe once every few months. The last one he bought before these was about a year ago. I was surprised when I didn’t see him again for awhile and then he just showed up all of a sudden last week.”

“So, you got these done extra fast then.”

“He paid extra for me to work fast.”

“Do you remember the last collar he had you do?” Warrick asked. 

“Yeah, got a picture of it actually.”

“A picture?”

“Yeah, I keep photographs of my work. No two collars look alike and because I do custom work, it’s nice to have a book of examples to show customers, to help give them ideas. You know?”

Ben went over to the cash register and pulled out a leather bound photo album and flipped through it until he came to what he was looking for. 

“Here it is,” he said, pointing to the right page. 

It was a black studded leather collar with the word “Bitch” tooled in hot pink between the studs. 

“Wow, looks like something horrible from the eighties, uh, no offence Ben, of course. You didn’t pick the colors.”

“I know, it’s ok. I felt the same way. But when the money rolls in, I don’t question what people want and why they do.” He looked a little sheepish. “I guess I should start now.”

“You couldn’t have known and it’s not really your business to know.”

“Right.”

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to remember what this guy looks like do you? Or to have heard a name by chance?”

“Um, no name. But I do remember what he looked like. The last time he was in, after he’d gotten the ‘Bitch’ collar, he had a long scar running down the side of his left cheek. He didn’t have that before.”

“If you don’t mind, we’re going to need you to come with us back to the lab to see the sketch artist.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Let me just close up my shop. Don’t get too many people this time of night anyway.”

* * *

Greg stood in the doorway of Nick’s bedroom, looking out at the sleeping form on the couch. His White Knight. Greg felt a surge of emotions welling up within his heart and he wanted to let them loose, but he couldn’t. Not now. He’d had a theory a few days ago about prolonged touch and he wanted to see if it would work. There had been times when he’d first arrived at Nick’s that they’d touched and it hadn’t bothered him because he was used to Nick from work and there had been that chance that he could go home and that Derek wouldn’t be mad at him. But he knew that was a lie. Of course Derek would be mad at him, and of course he’d get a beating for disobeying him. But with Nick, as the days went by it didn’t matter. He was afraid of touch now, he recognized it, knew he hadn’t been in the beginning with Nick, knew it had grown out of proportions thanks to Derek because Nick was slowly taking Derek’s place as the man in his life. He tried to tell himself Nick wouldn’t hurt him. Nick had said so, so many times. He’d come out and told Greg he loved him. That was the one thing Greg had always wanted, and he’d gotten it. Nick said he’d protect him. He could go back to work, and he had friends that would care about him, more people who would protect him from Derek until he was strong again. He could do this. Admitting his true feelings would take more strength than he currently had, but if he started with small steps, maybe someday he could tell Nick and set his emotions free. 

Nick was sleeping so it felt like it was cheating, but it was the first step in many Greg knew he would have to take for this to work. Carefully and quietly he tiptoed over to the couch where Nick slept on his side, his head on his arm which was dangling off the edge. His pillow had fallen off the arm of the couch but he didn’t seem to mind as he was still sound asleep. Greg sat down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. He lifted his hand and slowly reached up to Nick’s. He ghosted his forefinger over Nick’s and Nick didn’t wake up or even move. It was ok. Nick wasn’t going to hurt him. As long as he didn’t wake up, of course. Greg ghosted his fingers over each of Nick’s before he took his hand loosely in his and held it there, dangling in the air. He held his breath, waiting for Nick to wake up and find him there. Waiting for Nick to yell at him for this. But Nick loved him, Nick would never hurt him. 

Greg looked up into the kitchen and saw the clock on the wall. He stared at it, keeping an eye on Nick at the same time, prepared to bolt at a moment’s notice. But nothing happened. Five minutes later he was still holding Nick’s hand, watching the clock, and listening to Nick’s easy breathing. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Greg began to smile. The beautiful Texan in front of him was not Derek. Derek hadn’t even been all that good looking anyway. Maybe things could be ok. 

Greg let go of his hand and clasped his hands together in his lap, watching Nick sleep for a few seconds. He could go back to bed now. He felt tired and knew he needed sleep. But as he stood up Nick rolled back on the couch in his sleep, unconsciously making more room, his arms open wide and accepting. Greg stared at Nick in surprise. Did the man really know what he was doing and who was there? Was he really that good of an actor that he was actually awake and knew everything? Greg gulped and stood up, bumping the coffee table. A coffee mug gave a low screech against the glass but stayed upright. Nick didn’t move. His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was still slow and easy. 

His own breath coming quickly, Greg retreated back to the bedroom, but turned in the doorway. Nick was sound asleep. He had no clue Greg had been there. He was certain. He looked over at the empty bed he’d left earlier, and it looked huge and unforgiving. The couch was inviting. Small, but inviting. Maybe if he stole the edge for half an hour at the most he would be ok and he could go back to bed. He would be sure to get out of there before Nick woke up. 

Slowly he walked back to the couch and gingerly sat on the edge. Nothing happened. Careful not to touch Nick he lay down and stared at the older man’s chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he was breathing quick shallow breaths. He was going to hyperventilate if he didn’t calm down soon. Derek would have punished him for it if he didn’t. Here, Nick might wake up, and who knew what would happen.

He took deep, slow breaths and began to calm down. He was still alive. And he was now hoping if this worked out that Nick would like to hold him while he slept. He figured he’d like that. Derek had never done that. He’d always slept as far apart from Greg as he could after using him. A tear escaped his eye, and slid down the side of his face to soak into the cushion. But what if this didn’t work? Fairytales and White Knights were only that. They weren’t real. Just children’s stories to help ruin their lives when they grew up waiting for their prince to wake them up. 

Greg’s heart jumped into his throat then, as Nick moved, throwing his arm around Greg. Greg froze, unsure what to do. He couldn’t get up without moving Nick. And he couldn’t stay there, or Nick would wake up. Terror began to take hold of him, he began to hyperventilate again, and he couldn’t slow his breathing down enough. He’d just wanted to know what it felt like. To know if he could handle it. He hadn’t bargained for this! 

“Greg?” a groggy voice fell on his ears and he sat bolt upright, stiff as a board, Nick’s arm falling off him. He looked at Nick, feeling his eyes widen when he saw Nick looking up at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry!” Greg got up in a rush. “I’m so sorry. Please, I didn’t mean anything!” Greg began moving sideways to get out of the way of the coffee table and then backwards, stumbling over his own feet in his hurry to get away from Nick. 

“I’m sorry, I just...I had this thought...that I could try...to get used to touch again....I’m so sorry, I won’t do it ever again! I promise!” he babbled. 

“Greg, be careful! You’ll break something,” Nick warned. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to break your stuff!”

Nick was on his feet in seconds moving toward Greg. 

“I didn’t mean my stuff, Greg. I meant you. You’re still....” Nick hesitated. 

Greg was now half hiding behind the doorway, terrified of what Nick was going to do to him. 

“I meant, you’re still so...so...thin, and almost fragile. I don’t want you to get hurt any more than you already are.”

Nick had stopped half way across the room and Greg stayed where he was, keeping his eyes locked on him. 

“You know I love you, G. You know I would never hurt you. If I have to keep reminding you for the rest of my life, every second of every day, I will. I love you.”

Slowly Greg felt his muscles relax. But he was still wary. Derek had said some things in the past to calm him down right before giving him a severe punishment. 

“Greg, come here,” Nick nearly whispered, holding both hands out to him. “It’s going to be ok. I promise. Just come.”

Greg hesitated. He’d seen this done before. Experienced it. But not with Nick. And Derek was never one for promises to keep him safe. He moved one foot in front of the other toward Nick, but something stopped him. He looked back and realized his hands were gripping the doorway so hard his knuckles were white. His heart was still hammering. He was still terrified of what would happen. 

“You’re in control of the situation,” Nick said. “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I won’t be offended. You call the shots. I live by your orders now, ok? Whatever you want, I’ll do.”

Was Greg hearing him correctly? Emotions flooded his heart and his brain. All he wanted was someone to love him, no matter what happened. Someone who would hold him when he was scared and tell him everything was going to be ok. His fingers loosened their grip on the doorframe and he felt his weak legs wobble as he lost his support and took another step towards Nick. He knew he couldn’t tell him the truth yet. But maybe this was a start. The second step. 

Nick didn’t move toward him, letting Greg take charge of his own actions. But when he wobbled again, Nick looked ready to dash forward and catch him if he fell. Greg almost smiled at that. Derek would have just sat back down and laughed. He took another step and another until he was an arms length away from Nick’s outstretched hands. He looked from Nick’s hands to his face and found the love waiting there for him, radiating from his beautiful eyes. His own eyes burned with tears. He wanted nothing more than to admit everything. But he couldn’t. Something held him back One step at a time, he reminded himself. It was ok. If this love was real, Nick would wait for however long it took him to gain his courage back enough to tell him. 

Keeping his eyes locked on Nick’s, on the love he saw there, Greg slowly reached out and placed his cold, trembling hands into Nick’s, which were warm and welcoming. Nick didn’t move, letting him get used to the touch for a few minutes. Then he took a small step backward, toward the couch. 

“Walk with me, G. Trust me, it’s ok. Do you trust me?”

Greg’s hands trembled harder as he lowered his head to look at the floor. 

“Not completely,” Nick mused. 

Greg looked up at him through his lashes ashamed that he was still unsure and couldn’t completely trust him. Nick smiled, but it was a smile out of love, not the smiles Derek always gave right before bursting into laughter at him for something he’d done. 

“You know you’re adorable when you look up at me like that. And beautiful. Did I mention beautiful?”

“That’s no way to win my trust,” Greg whispered. 

But again, had he heard the Texan right? How could he find him beautiful, that which was broken? Nick was a mystery, that was for sure. Perhaps like a crime scene, Greg would have to look at the evidence to figure him out. But love was not about what was visible. 

Nick’s smile faded. 

“I know. I’m sorry. But it’s true. I can’t help that.”

Nick was opening up to him, finally, but he still couldn’t open up himself. The thought still scared him, the rip tide of emotions breaking free from the dam would surely be

enough to unsettle both of them, perhaps enough to drown one of them. He shuddered at the thought. 

Nick began rubbing circles on the backs of his hands with his thumbs. Over and over again. He watched in confusion. It was something no one had ever done before but he found it oddly comforting and he could feel himself relaxing. His hands stopped trembling but Nick didn’t stop. 

He looked back up at Nick through his lashes again. And again, Nick gave him a warm inviting smile. 

“I’ll do this for as long as I have to. Do you feel better now?”

Greg nodded. 

“Do you trust me?”

He hesitated, still a little unsure. 

“Only five minutes, G. I promise you won’t get hurt. Just five minutes. Not even.”

Greg raised his head to look Nick square in the eyes and he saw the love again, radiating from him, warming him up. Beside it was something else. Something else that should always accompany love: trust. He had found Nick’s trust now he only had to find his own. He was almost surprised to find that it hadn’t disappeared but was still on the shelf with the other bottled emotions. He reached inside and wrenched the cork off suddenly in a hurry to get to the next step, knowing things would never be this easy all the time. 

Keeping his eyes locked on Nick’s again, on the love and the trust, he nodded and took a step forward, letting Nick pull him to the couch. Then, in one fluid motion Nick had swept him up into his arms and he found himself lying on the couch beside Nick, the older man’s arm wrapped around him, holding him close. He stared at Nick in shock for a few moments, unwilling to move an inch. 

“You’re in control of the situation,” Nick reminded him. “But you wanted to try this to see if it helps and I’m all for whatever you want to do. G, you don’t have to hide things from me, you know. I’ll do whatever you want to do. And I think,” he paused. “This would be more effective if I was awake,” he smiled again and laughed lightly in an amused sort of way. “Are you ok? Do you want to stay like this? You can say no.”

“I think it’ll help,” Greg agreed, coming out of his frozen state. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

There was a long pause while Greg silently enjoyed Nick’s arm wrapped around him. He could trust him. He’d promised and he’d kept that promise. Just thinking about it made his eyes fill up with tears and he looked away from Nick’s face to blink them away quickly. This was the easy part. Trusting others would be more difficult, allowing others to touch him and to be ok with it would take a long time. Maybe even a fear of other men would develop. It was sad that he knew odd things could happen to him just because of what he’d seen through his job. He’d met women who’d been continually beaten at home by their husbands and they were now afraid of the world, hiding from everyone and everything just like he was, some had become afraid of men in general, and others afraid of their own home, even when the husband was no longer there. And most found new men who were just like the old. 

Greg shuddered and moved closer to Nick feeling the warmth and the love still radiating from him like it had never come from Derek. Derek had always been cold and unfeeling. Just using Greg until he couldn’t be used anymore. Until he was a lifeless body. And Nick had offered a way out of that life. He would be forever grateful if he lived to be an old man. If he lived that long. 

“You need to get some sleep,” Nick whispered. “I promise I’ll be right here, I won’t let anything happen to you. Unless you’d rather I not be here.”

“No, you can stay,” Greg said before he’d had a chance to think it through. 

He blinked, surprised by his own words, but he knew he meant it. If he was ever going to completely trust Nick and the rest of the world, he needed it. But it was more than just that. He wanted it just as much, if not more. 

“I just don’t know if I can sleep right now.”

“If I put some music on, will that help?”

Greg thought about that for a moment, remembering the song he’d heard on the stereo not that long ago. The first song Nick had played had reminded him of his comforting White Knight. 

“I can put in one of your Marilyn Manson cds if you want?”

“That song you played before. I don’t know who it was or the name of it, but I liked it.”

He looked into Nick’s face and saw confusion for a moment and then an understanding. Nick nodded.

“I didn’t know you were still awake when I played that.”

“I didn’t sleep for most of that night,” Greg finally admitted. 

Nick’s face contorted into one of shame before it quickly bounced back. He clearly did not want to talk about what had happened that night. 

“I didn’t know you even liked country music.”

“I didn’t know I did either.” 

Nick smiled his easy smile as he let go of Greg to reach for the remote on the coffee table. Within seconds Greg found himself listening to Leann Rimes’ “Feels Like Home.” He was comfortable where he was, finally able to be close to someone he loved who loved him back. Deep inside he was still scared that something would happen to set Nick off, but this wasn’t a bad start. If Derek would stay away, maybe someday Nick would feel like the home he should have had, the home he’d longed for his whole life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To answer your unasked question: No, I do not have a Greyhound though I do hope to own one someday so I have done extensive research into the breed. If you’re interested to know more you can check out wikifido.wetpaint.com, the magazine Celebrating Greyhounds, and the book that most adoption groups give out with every Greyhound adoption: Adopting the Racing Greyhound by Cynthia A. Branigan. Millions of Greyhounds come off the track every year around the world in need of a good home and end up in shelters for a long time. They make excellent pets and are affectionately known as couch potatoes even though they can run like the wind. So, if you’re considering getting a dog and don’t mind large dogs, consider the Greyhound!
> 
> 2nd A/N: 2020 - I DO have a Greyhound now, and have for four years. And OMG, best dog ever!


	12. Chapter 12

“If I can’t have him...” Warrick began.

“Neither can someone else,” Catherine finished. 

“So, let me get this straight Warrick,” Sara snickered. “You want Nick?”

Warrick spun on her, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” he asked. “Do I have to pull a Grissom and knock that coffee pot to the floor?” Warrick pointed toward the pot containing lukewarm coffee on the counter of the break room. 

“No. I didn’t say that. It’s just that we were just talking about Nick and all of a sudden you blurt that out. What else am I supposed to think?”

“Sorry. My mind’s still on the case and that stupid message. You know, I’m just thinking what if it’s a disgruntled father who lost his son to another man and he wants him back, wants him to be straight and is blaming every gay guy he can get his hands on? I mean, he could have seen a little of the S and M community and thought that’s all there was to gay life. And that’s what the collars are for. Or have I already suggested that theory? I can’t remember anymore.”

“Sure, that could make sense,” Catherine spoke up. “But we’re on break right now. And talking about our friends. I’d rather talk about them right now. I’m sick of this case and I just want it out of my brain for at least one hour a night. Is that so much to ask?”

“Nope, not at all. I understand. You wanna go visit them again soon? It’s been a few days since the last time and I’m worried about them too. Nick hasn’t even called me once. And he used to call a lot. We used to hang out more often to play video games, you know? And no, Sara, I don’t mean in the way you’re thinking.”

Sara only smirked.

“Yeah, another visit would be good. I need to know Greg’s doing ok. I mean, I just don’t understand how this could have happened. And the way he is he should have bounced right back and been back here already. Which means this is serious. I still picture his thin body and bruised face at night. I can’t help it.”

“Me too. I say call him. He’s probably still at Nick’s since Nick hasn’t come back yet,” Sara said.

The door to the break room opened and Grissom came in. “We’ve got a case to solve. You can call them later.”

“Do you know what’s going on with them yet? It’s been too long Griss.”

“I gave them until the end of the week and then they have to tell me.”

“The end of the week?!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t force them to tell me something that’s obviously affecting them very deeply until they’re ready. I just can’t. I may already be pushing my luck with the end of the week. I don’t know what’s going on but it seems like it could be bad enough to suggest they both seek counseling.”

“Wow. Yeah, you’re probably right. This does look bad. What if it’s just stress though? It could just be that the stress of being a CSI rather than a lab rat finally caught up with him.”

“He was beaten, Sara. That has nothing to do with stress.”

“Sorry, boss. I was just thinking out loud. I promise not to do it again.”

Grissom sighed and sat down at the table, crossing his arms in front of him. 

“I can’t say anything about that because I have no knowledge of what’s going on with them. What I can say is about the case. And that’s what we should be working on. Nick’s taking care of Greg, so let’s not worry about him. Ok?”

“Right. And what information do we have on the case?” Warrick asked in a sarcastic tone. “All the evidence we have are three collars, one plain, two black with red drops of blood, a picture of the guy who bought them, and this bloody message. Oh, and another collar the guy bought ages ago that says ‘Bitch’ on it. That’s nothing. We have no evidence for trace. No evidence for ballistics, no evidence for DNA, no evidence for tech. No evidence! This is just us throwing theories around like a bad game of dodge ball in a highschool gym class.”

“About your theory, Warrick,” Sara spoke up, setting her lunch down. “It doesn’t work out. If the father wanted to take revenge on every gay guy why only kill one of a couple? It doesn’t make sense. Besides, the first message was clearly ‘he’s mine’. Now, a father wouldn’t make that claim because that looks bad on him, if you catch my drift. But a lover, could easily make that claim. It’s a jealous world out there buddy.”

“Good thinking, Sara,” Grissom congratulated her. “So, we’re looking for a lover who lost his love.”

Warrick only gave Sara a nasty look and Catherine stared into her half empty coffee mug as if she would find the answer to all their questions and a way to end world hunger there. 

“I hate how I’m used to these crime scenes already,” Sara mumbled, her arms crossed. “I hate how I know before I go in there what I’m going to find.”

“But you don’t, always,” their boss corrected. “We found collars when we weren’t expecting them. And then the design on them changed. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. And he only bought a set number of them. So, yes, I can tell you how the rest of this damn case will go. He’s good at what he does and he knows it. We won’t know what this is all about until we get the whole message, and by that time the person he wants might be dead, or it could be too late to save them. What then Grissom? Huh? There’s nothing we can do but wait to find out who he wants.”

“But we’ve got his picture don’t we? And we know he must be gay if he’s this other man’s lover, right?”

Everyone looked up at Gil. 

“What are you getting at?” Catherine asked, coming out of her coffee cup stare. 

“We take this picture of him around to all of the gay clubs around here....”

The door opened and Brass came in. 

“Already done. And it didn’t get us much either. Basically the guy used to be a regular at a place downtown on the strip called The Rent, take off on the play, or so they say. Anyway, he was a regular until about eight or nine months ago. For awhile he was seen with another guy but no one knew the other guy, he wasn’t a regular and was only seen with this guy a few times a month for a few months.”

“What’d he look like?” Warrick asked. 

“I’ve got vague details on that one. He’s thin, not very muscular, sandy brown hair, and get this, he’s got a gorgeous smile that can light up the whole room.”

“Great, what are we gonna do with that? Do we know for sure that’s the guy this guy wants?” Warrick asked. He quickly shut up, shaking his head and resting it on his hands.

“It’s a no go. There’s nothing. And my head is going to explode. This is the biggest case we’ve had in months and we’ve got nothing. And to top it all off, it’s like the rest of Vegas has taken a vacation from crime just for this guy!”

“Yeah, well, in case you forgot, the night this guy first struck we were swamped with cases. Was also the night we lost Greg and Nick for the week,” Brass reminded him. 

“Right, I’m sorry. So, everyone took the week off to lighten the load on us cause they all know those two aren’t working. Do they also know by chance why they’re not working? Cause I sure as hell would like to know!”

“You mean you guys don’t know yet?” Brass asked. 

“No.”

“Great. You should get on that Gil.”

“I’m going to call them later tonight to see if we can visit again,” Catherine said, standing up and throwing out the rest of her uneaten lunch. “I’ll ask then. And I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll get to the bottom of this. See you in the evidence room.”

And she brushed past Brass at the door and left the room. 

“You know,” Warrick spoke up, his eyes clear for a moment. “That other collar...I think I remember seeing it before.”

“Which one?” Grissom asked. 

“The ‘Bitch’ one. I know I’ve seen it before. But I can’t remember where. Damn! Where was it?!”

“Think about it, Warrick, and let us know as soon as you come up with something.”

* * *

“Greg, I’m just gonna go check the mail, ok? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“Ok,” Greg mumbled. 

Nick smiled and left the younger man curled up on the couch deeply involved in another Dean Koontz book, a time traveling novel titled Lightening. Locking the door behind him he made his way downstairs. He was still shocked at his own brave actions from the night before, never mind what he thought of Greg’s. He’d come right out, without any hesitation and told Greg he was beautiful. Of course it was true. He would never lie to Greg, especially about something like that. They’d both been brave because he’d asked Greg to trust him before he boldly swept him off his feet and Greg had trusted him when Nick knew he wanted to do nothing of the sort. He was proud of Greg for that. One small stepping stone back to a normal life for both of them. And maybe it would be a life together. Nick had to hope, though he would never press Greg into something he didn’t want to do. 

Arriving at the mailboxes on the first floor Nick found several packages waiting for him and recognized the hot topic box at once. Greg’s clothes had arrived. Opening the mailbox, he pulled out the bills before picking up the boxes and making a dash back up to his apartment. 

“I can do what I need to do. I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is,” Greg was mumbling when Nick reentered his apartment. “I can do what I need to do. I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is. I can do what I need to do. I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is.”

Standing in the open doorway, with Greg none the wiser, Nick realized that the words which had helped him after being buried alive were no longer his mantra but were now Greg’s. With words like those, he knew Greg would be ok. Eventually. He stayed in the doorway and watched Greg, his nose still in Lightning, though he’d stopped reading. His eyes were glued to the empty margin at the bottom of the page as he repeated Micky Bellsong’s words over and over again. If Derek had never ruined Greg’s life, and if Nick had come out to him months ago, no, years ago, he could imagine himself right now, coming home from work, or from catching the mail, finding Greg on the couch reading a good book. He would put everything down in one of the other chairs and give Greg a hello kiss, even if they’d only parted five minutes ago. 

But Derek had happened and Nick had only just come out to Greg so there would be no hello kiss. Instead, he closed the door softly behind him so as not to startle the other man and walked into the livingroom as if he hadn’t heard him and hadn’t been watching him for a few minutes. 

“Hey Greg, I’m back.”

Greg stopped talking and looked up, his brown eyes growing large and round as he took in all the boxes Nick held in his hands. 

“Yes, I brought you some presents too,” Nick smiled. “I believe all of these are yours. Why don’t you go try them on, see how they fit.”

Greg gave a half smile before he put the book down. Nick carried the boxes into the bedroom and left them on the bed as he went to get a pair of scissors. Greg was still sitting on the couch, staring after him when he went back and sliced through the tape holding the boxes shut. 

“Come on, G! I wanna see what you got!” 

Nick came out with the scissors in his hands and motioned to the boxes on the bed. 

“I opened the boxes for you but I didn’t look. That’s your job. Now go on!”  
Greg’s half smile grew as he did as Nick told him. Nick, meanwhile, put the scissors away and sat down on the couch. Picking up the book he realized Greg was almost half way through it already. Waiting for Greg, he went to the bookshelf where all of his Dean Koontz books sat, remembering how carefully Greg had put his well worn copy of One Door Away From Heaven back into its place. He pulled it off the shelf and flipped through it. It left a large gaping hole on the shelf where it had been, and in his collection in general. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t replace it later if he felt the need.

“Nick?” Greg’s voice reached him from the bedroom doorway. 

He turned to see Greg in one of his new outfits. 

“It’s a little big.” Greg’s smile had faded and his shoulders slumped down. “I used to fit in this size.”

“Don’t worry,” Nick said, doing his best to hide the pain he felt coursing through him along with the slight anger. “They’ll fit again soon. Especially if you stay here and eat as much Texas steak as I can feed you.”

Nick was sure he saw the barest hint of laughter in Greg’s eyes for a split second before it was gone. But he was also worried at Greg’s choice of clothing. None of it looked like anything the younger man had worn before. In fact, it all looked as if it had come straight out of Nick’s own closet, though it was all brand new. It looked dull on him. As much as he wanted to call Greg on the issue, he knew he shouldn’t. It would take a long time for him to get through this and he didn’t need Nick calling him on his new wardrobe. 

“Can I...Do you mind if I...if I just....wear your stuff that fits, until these fit again?”

“Of course, G. Whatever you want.”

Greg nodded and ducked back into the other room as Nick moved to sit on the couch. 

Seeing Greg swimming in clothing that should have fit him, Nick was reminded of the night he’d carried him out to the ambulance when he’d hardly weighed a thing. Even last night when he’d picked up the younger man he could tell he was still severely underweight. 

Greg had listened through Leann Rimes’ whole CD after hearing “Feels Like Home” and still he was wide awake in Nick’s arms. Nick had no intentions, no matter how tired he was, of falling asleep before Greg. He wanted to make sure the younger man would be ok before he allowed himself the luxury of sleep. While the music was playing they were both silent, Greg probably trying to sleep, and Nick holding him close while analyzing everything about him. 

He could still feel all of Greg’s bones through the shirt he wore and if his hand slipped to far to Greg’s right side he heard an audible gasp as he came in contact with a bruise that was still pretty bad. He knew Greg was scared of being so close to Nick, but he never said anything, not even when he would gasp from Nick’s hand finding one of the bruises on his back. Nick knew determination when he saw it and it made him proud of Greg that he was determined to see the night through even though he was uncomfortable. All Nick wanted to do was hold him tight and never let him go, to protect him forever from the cruel world out there. But more than that he wanted Greg to be able to stand on his own two feet again and he knew he’d have to let him go eventually. 

When the CD ran out Nick could still feel the tension in Greg’s body telling him he was still awake. Without hesitation he began to sing the words to “Feels Like Home” softly into Greg’s ear:

<i>“In your eyes I find the answers to my questions.

In your arms, yeah, I found the world I've waited for.

In your touch, I've found everything I ever needed.  
I need nothing more.  
Always dreamed of the day when  
My dream would find me.  
Now my dream's beside me.  
You are in my life.  
In your arms I know where I belong.  
I've never known this feeling, oh,  
But it feels like home.  
In your eyes I know what I can be.  
You opened up your heart to me.  
And it Feels Like Home.  
When I'm with you, baby,  
It Feels Like Home.”</i>

  
As he sang, he felt the tension slowly disappearing and eventually Greg was relaxed in his arms and had even fallen asleep. 

Greg came back from the bedroom now dressed in an old pair of Nick’s sweats and one of his tightest t-shirts that still looked a little big on him. 

“What happened to trying everything on?” 

“It’s all big. It’ll fit fine later.”

Greg stood in the doorway, looking uncertain about something.

“Come,” Nick said and Greg obeyed. 

He still held One Door Away From Heaven in his lap as Greg approached. He patted the space on the couch beside him and Greg sat down looking a bit apprehensive. Nick showed him the book. 

“You know I must have read this book ten times when I got out of the box,” he began, his heart almost pounding at this admission. 

He’d never talked much about the experience except with his therapist so this wasn’t easy. He knew Dr. Vine would be proud of him for sharing even this small amount of information with someone else. He looked up into Greg’s face, into his warm chocolate brown eyes, which had gone wide at the turn of their conversation. He didn’t seem fearful anymore. Instead, he seemed more surprised that Nick was talking about his experience being buried alive. 

“I took it with me wherever I went,” Nick continued. “I read bits and pieces when life got too rough, when I was on break at work, just before I drove home, before bed. Any time I could find I read this book. It helped me get through the hard times, it served its purpose and I don’t need it any more. It’s time for this book to move on, to become yours so that you can read it every time you need to, whenever and wherever that may be. When I can’t be there with you, you’ll have this.”

Nick, his own hands almost shaking from nervousness, took Greg’s hands and placed the book in them. 

“But...”Greg stuttered. “But...what about your collection? I thought you were going to own all of his books?”

“I’ve got most of it memorized now, G. And you need it more than I do. Besides, if I feel the need, someday I can replace it easily. Don’t worry about it. It’s yours now.”

“Um...thanks...” Greg said shyly, staring at the book in his hands. “That...that means a lot...to me. And I...I didn’t know any of that, about the book, I mean, and you.”

“I know, I try not to talk about that time in my life. My therapist would be happy I told you as much as I did.”

Greg looked up at Nick. “Was...was that...hard...therapy, I mean?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“But it...but it helped, right?”

Nick nodded. “Yes, it helped. I know this is hard for you, but Grissom needs to know what’s going on at the end of the week and then at least one of us has to go back to work. He’ll suggest therapy sessions for you too. And I would suggest them as well. I know they’ll help.” Nick paused for a moment to let it all sink in. “I don’t mean to push myself on you. I just want to help you, to be there for you if you need me. If you want me to, I’ll go with you. But only if you want me to.”

Greg was silent for awhile and when he spoke it was a near whisper. “I don’t know. Let me think about it. Ok?”

“Sure.”

“So, Grissom wants to know what happened to me...by the end of the week?”

“Yes. I promised you I wouldn’t say anything, but it’s keeping us both off the clock and he needs to know. Look, Greg, I won’t advise you to go back to work next week. But I will have to. I’ll cover for you as best I can, but you’re still going to have to tell Griss something.”

“But what will I do? Where will I go if you’re not here?” Greg suddenly looked fearful again. 

“Greg, this is your home now, for as long as you need it to be. You’ll be safe here. You know my phone number’s unlisted, and so is my address. If someone wanted to find out where I lived they’d have to follow me home, and I’m usually very careful about that.”

“Oh. The stalker thing, right. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a preventative and safety precaution. If anything, it should help keep you safe. And I’ll be sure to call you as many times during the night as you need. Alright?” 

Greg nodded, with a glimmer of something in his beautiful brown eyes. It wasn’t hope, Nick knew that, but it was something...something nice, he only wished he could determine what it was. 

“I know, you’re eager to get back to that book,” Nick said, pointing towards Lightning. “But would you want some music to go with that good book? I wouldn’t mind listening to some of your music or you know I’ve got a whole collection of cds.”

Greg thought about it for a few minutes. “I’ll take some of mine...if you really don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll go get it for you.”

Nick went into his bedroom to find empty boxes in a neat pile by the door. Looking under the bed, he found two boxes, one held all of Greg’s new clothes in neat piles, the other held everything he’d come with. Nick brought out both boxes and made a mental note to clear out a few drawers in the dresser for Greg’s things once he was settled in with his music and his book. Rummaging through the second box Nick found his three Marilyn Manson cds underneath the two movies. But as he picked them up, something else rattled in the bottom of the box. He put the cds on the bed and took out the movies to see what else was in there that he might have missed the first time. He didn’t want to pry into Greg’s personal belongings, but curiosity was getting the better of him. 

He put the box under the light on the nightstand and stopped, completely in shock. There were two bottles of coverup along with a package of makeup sponges. The bottles were not small by any means and one of them was almost empty. The other looked brand new. The sponges were mostly gone. Nick stared, unsure what to do with this new information. His first thought was to call Warrick. He had a bad feeling about this and he knew Greg didn’t keep a lock on his locker at work. He could easily have Warrick check for more of the same. He knew his friend would find some, he was sure. But he couldn’t bring Warrick in on this. He’d promised Greg not to say anything. 

He knew Derek had beat the shit out of Greg the night he’d gone to the hospital, but this only proved that it had been going on far longer than he’d suspected. How many times had Greg gone into work, had run cases with Nick, had talked to Nick, to everyone, and been covering up his home life? It broke Nick’s heart, and made him understand Greg’s thoughts with the knife in the kitchen a few nights ago just a little more. If only he’d known about this sooner, he could have done something! 

“What’s taking so long?”

Nick jumped when he heard Greg’s voice in the doorway and spun around, the box still in his hands. He was sure his face betrayed his guilt to the younger man. It had to have. 

“What’s wrong?” Greg asked quickly and Nick knew his face wasn’t revealing the guilt he was feeling, it was revealing the hurt and the pain he felt for Greg instead. 

“How long?” was all he could get out, as he showed Greg what he’d found. “How long has this been going on?”

A pained expression covered Greg’s face and he closed his eyes, composing himself, erasing the expression the moment it appeared. 

“How long?!” Nick asked again, a desperate squeak in his voice. 

There was so much he wanted to know. He tried to keep it all in, to go slowly for Greg, to keep his tears in check as his emotions attempted to overtake him. 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. Please?”

“Greg, how could you not tell me?! I would have beat the crap out of him for you! I could have gotten you out of that situation sooner!”

Greg backed out of the doorway into the livingroom. Nick set the box back on the bed with the movies and the music and followed Greg. 

“I can’t talk about this now. Please. Not now,” Greg begged. “If you really love me you’ll wait for however long it takes me to get the courage to tell you.” 

Greg stopped backing up once he was at the couch. He looked up at Nick with wide, shocked eyes, and his entire body began to tremble as he fell backwards onto the couch. He curled up into himself, cowering away from Nick. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that! I didn’t!”

“No, you’re right,” Nick said, calming down a little before moving to sit on the other side of the couch. “I’m the one who should be sorry. It’s just...just that I’m worried about you and I wish I’d known about this a long time ago. I thought I was in tune with everything going on around me and now I find out I missed something huge, something horrible, that was going on in your life. I just wish I’d known so I could have done something to stop it, to protect you.”

Greg peeked up at him over his arms and relaxed when he saw Nick wasn’t about to hurt him for his words. 

“You’re right,” Nick said again. “I do love you, and I will wait for however long it takes you. Even if you never do, I’ll still be here for you.”

The phone rang, startling both men. Nick looked at the caller ID. 

“Catherine.”

“You should answer that,” Greg said, relaxing a bit more. 

Nick reached for the phone, and wasn’t surprised to find tears running down his face for the millionth time that week. And suddenly Greg was right in front of him, his hands on Nick’s face, carefully wiping the tears away. 

“It’s ok,” Greg said, as if it had been Nick cowering from him afraid of a beating just a few moments ago. “Talk.”

Nick hit the talk button and put the phone to his ear. 

“Stokes and Sanders residence,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Sanders too, huh?” Catherine spoke. 

“Yeah, well, he lives here too, for the time being. Might as well take his calls as well. Which one of us did you want?”

After clearing Nick’s face of salty tears Greg had actually leaned back against his chest, crossing his arms. He was a little stiff, as if he was still uncomfortable with being that close, but he seemed to be getting used to it, relaxing his muscles a little more every time they were close. 

“Um either one of you, really. The rest of the team and I were wondering if we could come visit, since we haven’t seen you in awhile. We all want to see how Greg’s doing.”

“I’ll have to defer that question to Greg. I don’t mind, but it’s really up to him. Hold on and I’ll ask.”

Greg looked up at him, questioningly. Nick covered the mouthpiece, looking at the clock. 

“The team wants to visit, to see how you’re doing. Their shift is probably almost over by now.” 

Greg shook his head. “Not now. Not today,” he whispered, fear evident from their recent discussion. “They can’t know anything. I saw them once, but I don’t want them to see me like this again. When things are better.”

“Sure. Whenever you want.” Nick put the phone back to his ear. “I’m sorry Cath, but today’s no good. Maybe at the end of the week.”

“The end of the week? What, just cause Griss said you could wait to tell him what’s going on until then? We’re all worried about him, Nick! We all saw what he looked like the last time! We need to know what’s going on!”

“I’m sorry, Cath, really, I am. There’s nothing I can say. Around here we do what Greg wants to do. I know you all hate me for knowing more than you, but even I don’t know the full story. I’m patiently waiting until he’s ready to tell me. Like a good friend would do. It’s all I can do.”

“He has to tell Griss soon, Nick.” 

“Yes, and he knows that too. Things have been a little rough for him for awhile, just give him some time. Ok?”

Nick instinctively wrapped his free arm around Greg, who only froze for a moment before relaxing again. He looked back up at Nick. 

“Can I talk to her?”

“Hold on, Greg wants to talk to you.”

Nick handed Greg the phone and rested the side of his head on the back of the couch, now wrapping both arms around the younger man since he hadn’t complained about the first. 

“Catherine?” Greg’s voice came out a little stronger than it usually was as the younger man made sure he sounded ok. “I’m ok... Yes, I know.... I’m sorry. I can’t.... No. Not now. Just...no. I just wanted you to hear me tell you that I’m doing ok. I’ll be fine. Nick’s taking care of me... And he’s doing a fine job.... Nick will be. I don’t know if I will or not... yes, I know I have to tell Grissom. I will, I just don’t know if I will be back to actually work for a while.... No, I don’t want to talk about it... it’s hard enough with Nick here and he’s being as supportive as he can.... He’s doing a great job Catherine, don’t worry about it. Tell the team I’m fine. I’ll see you all as soon as I can.” 

Greg hung up the phone and handed it back to Nick. 

“Are you ok like this?” Nick asked. 

“I do feel safe here, and comfortable.”

Nick smiled, wishing he could know what Greg was really feeling just then. Did this mean he was reciprocating his own feelings? Or was this just him trying to get used to human touch without being afraid of a beating again? Not that it mattered to Nick. Either way he’d be happy to oblige, he just wanted the first thought to be true as well as the second.

“You know this is hard for me,” Greg said, his voice, back to a near whisper. “I know I have to tell Grissom soon. But I want you to be the first to know. You just have to give me the time to find the courage to tell you what’s been going on. But I promise I will tell you before the week’s out, before I tell Grissom. And Nick... if you’re not too squicked out by it all, and don’t want to disown me, it would mean a lot if you were there when I tell him.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m as much a part of this now as you are, G. But I promise I won’t tell him anything you don’t want me to.”

“Thanks.”

Greg sat up and picked up the book he’d been reading earlier. 

“Did you read this one yet?”

“I started to, probably got about half way through before I had a sudden need to reread One Door Away From Heaven again. I never did get around to finishing it. I guess I can’t spoil the ending for you then. Sorry about that.”

Greg leaned back against Nick again. 

“Read it with me? I’m about halfway through?”

“Sure, G. But let me go get that music you wanted first.”

“Forget the music. I don’t want it anymore.”

“You sure? I could get used to it, I think. If I try real hard, and I’m willing.”

“No, it won’t help the mood we’re in. It won’t help me right now. Just sit, and read.”

“Ok, whatever you say.”

Greg opened the book to where he’d left off and Nick glanced at the page over Greg’s shoulder. 

“Just remember I’m a slower reader than you are.”

“Ok, I can read slower,” Greg said. “Just tell me when you’re done with the page. I’ll keep pace with you.”

* * *

Dawn was upon the two boys before either of them knew it. Greg was already curled up in bed when Nick had gotten out of his quick shower. The older CSI stood in the doorway to the bedroom and smiled at Greg. 

“I’m all yours, Greg. Where do you want me? I can sleep on the couch, or I can sleep here if you want. And you can kick me out if you feel the need. Whatever you want.”

A warm, bright, happy, excited, smile spread across Greg’s heart at Nick’s words. Things couldn’t be more perfect right then. Sure he still had issues to work out, sure Catherine would bug him until he told her what was going on, and sure, Derek was still out there, but right now, Nick was there and that alone made everything perfect. 

“I think...I think you’d better take the couch,” Greg mumbled, looking down at his hands. “It’s just that...I need to do some thinking. And I don’t think I can...if you’re there. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, G. You know where to find me. Night.”

“Yeah, night.”

Nick left the room for the couch and Greg turned out the light. 

He hadn’t wanted to say no to Nick. He’d enjoyed spending nearly all of his waking hours and half of his sleeping hours in Nick’s arms. They’d felt comfortable, like he belonged there. But there was a lot he needed to think about and he was sure it wouldn’t help his brain to think clearly with Nick in the same room. He remembered his soft voice singing in his ear the night before, and he felt that smile creep from his heart to his face. For many nights long before Nick had found him he’d lain awake long into the night hardly able to get an ounce of sleep because of the man sleeping beside him. Even here, in Nick’s apartment, he still found it hard to sleep. But hearing him sing had done something to him, it had relaxed him into sleep so deep he could have died and gone to heaven right there in Nick’s arms. 

Trust was a hard thing to learn. After so many times gone bad, it was hard to learn to trust people again. But Greg wasn’t a quitter and he wasn’t planning on giving up that easily. After all, the man of his dreams was standing behind him, holding him up, holding him together. He wouldn’t give up on that. He couldn’t. Especially not when said man had admitted a few things from the time when he’d been buried alive, never mind the fact that he’d admitted his love. For him to admit anything to him was huge. Greg knew he never talked about that time to anyone even before he’d said as much. 

He knew his life would never be the same as it was before Derek had entered it. But it could be better than it was with Derek, and he’d already had a taste of that. It wasn’t Nick he was afraid of, he now knew. It was the thought of Derek finding him and coming for him, punishing him for running away. And strangers too, who might want to get close to him, or others who didn’t know the truth, like the team. 

Remembering Nick’s voice squeaking earlier when he’d asked how long Derek had been hurting him, Greg flinched, still feeling violated over the questions. He knew Nick was only showing just how much he truly cared, his job had taught him that. His job only served to show him the other side of a spouse abuse story so that he could fully grasp where Nick was coming from. He’d been heartbroken and horribly upset at finding his coverup. 

As long as Derek didn’t get in the way, he had a feeling things would work out. Nick was willing to be there for him, no matter what. He wanted Greg to go to therapy to get help, and he was willing to go with him. He’d talked, if only briefly, about his time in the box, so maybe, maybe Greg could tell him about his time with Derek, and maybe he could go to therapy. 

“Stokes and Sanders residence,” Nick’s voice as he’d answered the phone earlier came back to Greg and he smiled a small smile. It sounded right, the way he’d answered. And Nick had told him this was his home now. But could it be his home forever? He rather liked the idea of Sanders-Stokes as a last name...it rang just right. Nick had already opened his heart to him, telling him how he felt, all he had to do was the same, but it wouldn’t be easy. Telling him what had gone on with Derek would be easier, he felt, then telling him how much he really loved him. But he didn’t want to keep him in the dark for too long otherwise he would move on, find someone else, thinking that Greg didn’t love him when he really did. 

Greg sighed and rolled over in bed to stare at the other, empty, half. He rolled back over, turning his back to it and it was like Derek was there beside him, as far away from him as possible, but still there, none the less. He shivered, feeling cold and alone all of a sudden. His legs curled up automatically, pulling his body into a ball under the covers and he felt his emotions shutting down, closing themselves off, bottling themselves back up, shoving themselves as far back on the shelf as possible. He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t be happy. There was nothing. Nothing at all. 

And then his brain suddenly snapped out of it. This had been happening since he’d moved in with Nick, because it was how he’d been living for so long. But it didn’t have to be that way. Nick was still in the other room. He hadn’t gone far, and he would welcome him with warm, loving arms. He would. 

Greg jumped out of bed and crept into the livingroom. Nick was curled up on the couch, the blanket wrapped around him, his head on the pillow. He looked asleep, and Greg’s heart plummeted, not wanting to wake him up. But then Nick moved, and looked up at Greg. 

“Are you done thinking?” Nick asked, as if he’d known Greg would be in to join him all along. 

“I can’t sleep alone cause I feel like Derek’s there and I was always alone when he was with me.”

Realizing his admission Greg stopped a foot away from the couch. Had he really just said that out loud? No, no, he couldn’t have. He wasn’t ready to tell Nick anything yet. Not yet. 

“It’s ok,” Nick whispered, pulling the blanket back. “Come here.”

Nick’s simple words and open arms drew him forward and Greg found himself curling up beside him on the couch, Nick’s arms wrapped around him. 

“You’re not alone anymore, G. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

“You know this doesn’t look good, Gil,” the Sheriff said, looking over the latest crime scene as Warrick and the rest of the team desperately looked for fresh evidence, midst the blood of the victim. 

“I know,” Grissom said. 

“How many bodies are we up to here?”

Warrick looked over at his boss and watched him counting on his fingers as he repeated the message they’d been getting. He then looked back at the new word on the wall and fired off a few pictures. Knowing there wouldn’t be any finger prints, he dutifully dusted for them anyway just in case. 

“He’s mine. If I can’t have him neither...seven.”

“Seven’s too many. Gil, you know I’m going to have to call in the big guys from Quantico. I should have done that days ago. This case is way out of control.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. We would have had this case rapped up by now, but this guy leaves no evidence behind. He’s perfectly clean. Leaves nothing behind except a word on the wall as part of the over all message and recently he added collars to the victims. We’ve got a picture of him sent out to all the police stations and we know that there are only two collars left in the bunch that he bought.”

“Which would suggest only two more victims,” Sara said, joining the two at the door as she slipped out of her latex gloves. 

“So, what? You’re just going to let two more people die before you catch him? You don’t even know that two more collars means only two more victims. You said it yourself Gil, this guy’s angry because he’s not getting what he wants. Suppose he still doesn’t get what he wants when two more people are dead? What then? And what if this message doesn’t tell you anything about him when you’ve got it figured out?”

Warrick came over then. “The way I see it, this message will most likely end in two more words, maybe three. What we’ve got so far ‘He’s mine. If I can’t have him neither....would easily end in ‘neither can someone else, that someone else being a name, either first, last, or both. I’m hoping both. Sheriff, I don’t want to see more people dead because of this guy. But Gil’s right. We’ve got nothing else to go on. We know what he looks like but nothing else. No DNA evidence, no name, nothing.”

“Not every case is as easy as pie,” Catherine said from her position on the floor while she shone her flashlight underneath the bed. “Even those big guys from Quantico have unsolved cases. You can’t expect us to solve every single case that comes into our lab, Sheriff. It’s just not possible.”

“Yeah, well, some fresh eyes might do this one some good.” 


	13. Chapter 13

“Warrick, do you remember yet where you saw the ‘Bitch’ collar?” Grissom asked, quickly as they walked out of the latest crime scene and onto the front lawn of the large white house.   


“Sorry, Griss. I’ve been racking my brain for hours and nothing yet.”

“Well, it would be great if you could hurry up with that.” Grissom nodded toward a team of three men and women wearing suits just crossing under the yellow crime scene tape.

“They’re here. I’d like to think this case is still ours. I know we can solve this, and you’re holding the key. Just don’t tell them that. It could cause more problems than we need.”

“You going political on me, Boss?”

“No. I just want to have the edge over them. And if it doesn’t work out....that wouldn’t look good for any of us.”

“Right.”

The two men and one woman walked up to Grissom and Warrick and stopped. One of the men held out his hand. 

“You must be the famous Gil Grissom. I’m Agent Tad.”

Grissom shook his hand, though Warrick was the only one who saw the distaste in his shake and in his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m Gil Grissom and this is Warrick Brown.”

“This is Agents Ferry and Snop. We’ll be taking over the case.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

Warrick hated this just as much as Grissom and berated himself for not remembering who he’d seen wearing the black leather collar with the silver studs and the hot pink tooled lettering. He’d been right. He held the case breaker. All he had to do was figure out who’d been wearing the collar and they would lead the team to the killer. Right? Well, no. There were too many variables. This person, could have just been someone in the grocery store that he didn’t know, though he had a strange feeling he’d seen this person through his job. But it could still have been someone on the cleaning crew, someone who’s name he didn’t know. And what if they did find the person? How were they going to identify the killer? ‘Oh yeah, I remember him! That’s Joe from up the street. Yeah, we used to date but then he got into this serial killer thing and I split.’ Ha! Yeah, right. But wait...they still had that picture of him, didn’t they? Right. Find the guy wearing the collar, show him the picture, and they’d get their serial killer. It would work out. He did have the case breaker in his head. If only he knew who the hell it was! 

“Warrick?”

CSI Brown snapped out of his thoughts when Grissom called his name. 

“Yeah?”

“Get Sara and Catherine down here.”

“Sure thing.”

He went back upstairs, still trying to wrack his brain on who had the collar. Hadn’t he seen them recently? It must have been, or else why would he have remembered them? Remembered the collar? Or maybe he’d seen it a lot? If he worked with the person, or saw them everyday, like the cleaning crew, why wouldn’t he remember such a thing? But who would wear something like that at work? The way to start was to go through everyone he knew, everyone he could think of who might actually wear a collar. A dog’s collar. Ironically, the first name that popped into his head was Greg Sanders, CSI Level I. Warrick laughed to himself, as he made his way up the stairs to the second level of the house, and to the back where the bedrooms were. 

Greg, at one point in his life might have worn such a thing. Perhaps before he’d become CSI. But since then he’d oddly mellowed out and his clothes had changed dramatically, mellowing out the same as his personality. So, if he’d seen this person recently, it wasn’t Greg. Was Greg even gay anyway? Warrick wasn’t sure. 

“Hey, Warrick, what’s up with the blank look?” Sara asked. 

He blinked and realized he was standing in the doorway of the bedroom where the latest victim had been killed. He looked over at the opposite wall and read ‘can’ in the poor man’s blood. 

“Oh, um, Feds are here. Griss wants you two downstairs.”

“Fine. You know I hate those idiots. But it’s not like we’re finding anything here and the body’s gone to Doc already. But it’s not like he can tell us anything we don’t know already. Same as all the others. Ugh.”

Sara and Catherine followed him back downstairs. They passed the three Feds on their way up to the scene and found Grissom still out on the lawn where Warrick had left him earlier. 

“So, what have we got so far?” their boss asked. 

“Um... ‘He’s mine. If I can’t have him neither can...”

“So you were right Warrick,” Cath said. “Or, someone was right. Whoever had that theory whenever the heck that was...I can’t even remember anymore what the hell’s going on.”

“Don’t let the FBI hear you say that!” Gil hissed. “I don’t want them thinking we can’t do our job here. Now come on. Let’s get back to the lab. Not like there’s much more we can do here. We’ve got all the evidence we need.”

* * *

Greg’s eyes slowly blinked open. Through his hazy morning vision he tried to determine where he was, but nothing was coming into focus quickly enough for him. 

“Hey,” a soft voice said behind him.   
A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped out of his skin, rolling and landing on the hard floor beneath him, his heart pounding. A hand on his shoulder always meant he’d be whipped around for a smacking or a beating of some kind for some reason he never fully understood. He braced himself, hiding his head beneath his arms, ready for the assault to begin. 

“Greg? Are you ok?” the voice that spoke was not what he’d expected. It was soft, kind, and worried. Not angry.

He looked up, haltingly taking his arms away from his face. And there was Nick, looking down at him from the couch a worried expression covering his face. Greg looked around at his surroundings and found himself on the floor of Nick’s livingroom between the couch and the coffee table. And then it all came back to him. Nick. He’d been sleeping with Nick. Derek wasn’t there. He was safe. Safe. There wasn’t going to be a beating. Everything was ok. 

“Greg?”

“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean to freak out. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I forgot about...that. I promise I won’t touch you again without asking first. You want a hand up?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Greg struggled to his knees and looked over at the warm, comforting, inviting, loving Nick, and crawled back onto the couch beneath the blanket with him. 

“I wish you didn’t have to ask me first. I’ll try not to freak out next time.”

“You want to tell me what makes you freak out? It might help.”

Greg looked up into Nick’s warm brown eyes. He wanted to tell him. Tell him everything, get it off his chest. Nick was right, it probably would help him. But...what if it pushed Nick away once he told him? What if Nick saw him as weak and wanted nothing to do with him again?

“I...I don’t know...if I can do this,” Greg managed. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m....I’m scared...to tell...to tell the world. You know?”

“Why are you scared? You’ve got nothing to be scared about.”

“I don’t know...I just...I just don’t want anyone to...to see me differently. To not like me...to hate me...think I’m weak,” Greg stuttered.

He looked away from Nick’s face to his black t-shirt. A few seconds later Nick’s hand came up to cup his chin and bring his face back to Nick’s. 

“Greg, that will never happen. I will never hate you for what happened, or see you differently. And I don’t see you as weak, either. I love you.”

* * *

Warrick still had the feeling he knew the person well, whether he just saw them everyday or actually knew who they were. At his locker back at the lab he grabbed his notebook and pen and began taking notes, determined to figure this out as soon as possible. 

At the top of the page he made note of the approximate date the killer had bought the collar. Whoever it was, he’d seen them since then. He began writing down the names of every guy he knew. The first to go on the list was Greg, since he’d already ruled him out while he’d been at the crime scene. The next was Nick Stokes, one of his closest friends. Of course Nick would never wear such a thing. Never in his life had he known Nick to dress any differently than he always did. Grissom was the same, and if it had been his boss, they wouldn’t have the feds on their doorstep at this very moment stepping into their livingroom. 

Disgusted with the thought of the FBI running their investigation Warrick got up from the bench and went to find someone he could talk to from his own team. He found Catherine in the layout room going over the evidence from all the past crime scenes for their current case. She was shaking her head. 

“Damn it, Warrick. There’s just nothing here. I can’t...I don’t know what to do!”

“You and me both.”  
Warrick sighed and looked back to his notebook. He added David Hodges to the list when the trace tech poked his head into the room to ask how the case was going with the feds. Catherine only gave him a dark look. 

“Ok, sorry I asked!” and Hodges was gone in an instant. 

Warrick quickly checked him off the list as one to never wear such a collar. 

“What are you doing?” Catherine asked. 

“I’m making a list of all the guys I know and see on a daily basis. I’m trying to find out who has the Bitch collar because I remember seeing it somewhere not that long ago. But I don’t know who it was that had it.”

“You know who has it?”

“I don’t know. I think I do. But I could be wrong. I could be completely way off base. Griss wants me to figure it out before the feds do.”

“Yeah right. Well, get thinking then. I certainly won’t stop you.”

“Gee thanks.”

* * *

Greg could already feel the tears welling up in his eyes at Nick’s words though he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Nick’s. If only he could gain the courage to tell him how he felt. If only...

“No one else will see you that way either. And if they do, then they’ll just have to answer to me.”

He decided then, within a split second, to make the leap of faith. If he waited any longer it might never happen. 

“It was so nice,” Greg began, his voice shaking as much as his hands. 

Nick let his chin go and took both his hands in his own, rubbing circles into them to calm him down. 

“...at first. I...I met Derek about....about a year ago. I’d gone to this bar...for the first time...and there....there he was...he looked so....so...amazing....Nick, I don’t love him. You know that, right?”

“It’s ok if you did love him at one time, Greg. I won’t hold that against you.”

His thumbs were still rubbing comforting circles into his hands. 

“It was infatuation. I know that now. But that’s all there was....I thought it was...love.... but it wasn’t. He was just so....good looking. And he was paying attention to me. Me. It felt...like he was a God and...I was just...a nobody...but he liked me. And he loved to listen to my stories from work. I felt so special...going home...and explaining how we solve different crimes, what we look for, how the pieces fit together like a puzzle.”

Greg’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before and his hands were shaking uncontrollably as Nick continued his calming gesture. This was a huge admission he was about to make and he had to put his full faith in Nick, in every promise the man had made to him during the past week. 

“It went so well...in the beginning...he moved in with me...and I thought we were happy together. But then...then we had an argument...I don’t remember what it was about.”

He looked down at his hands in Nick’s. 

“Something stupid....but...but he....he hit me...” Nick’s hands tightened on his, but he kept rubbing them gently. “It came out of nowhere...and he was so sorry...I let him apologize. I truly thought he was sorry. But it...it didn’t stop there....He got worse. He kept apologizing and I kept letting him.” 

Greg swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes, picturing the night he’d gone home many months ago. The night, his life had changed. 

“Greg? You ok?” concern laced Nick’s thick Texan accent. 

He opened his eyes slowly, but didn’t look up at Nick. The lump had returned to his throat.

“One night everything changed....I...I went home....from...from work.....and he’d thrown out all my stuff...my cds, furniture, clothing...everything...he’d moved all his own stuff in...I tried to find out why...I didn’t understand what he was doing.... he made me understand that night. I managed to scratch him on the face...but he overpowered me. I understood when he was done that I wasn’t special that I didn’t deserve half of the things I had. That he deserved everything.... he made me wear a collar...said I belonged...I belonged....to him...that I was....his...his bitch.”

A small tear rolled down his face. Nick moved one of his still shaking hands into his other hand and gently brushed the tear away. Greg sniffed. 

“It hurt so much....I couldn’t work for a few days...”

“I remember that,” Nick said, his voice cracking slightly. “ Grissom said you had the flu. I should have called...I knew I should have called.”

Greg pulled his hand away from Nick’s and shakingly took hold of his shirt. 

“It wouldn’t have done any good. He took control...of everything...I...haven’t seen my... my paycheck...since then...He doesn’t want... to spend too much... money... and he has no job.... so he monitors... what I eat. I guess.... I guess I freak out because.... any time he touches me...either I’ve done something wrong and he means to punish me.... or...or....or he wants... sex.” Greg shuddered whispering, “He likes it rough.”

“Were you ok with the way he wanted it? What did you do wrong?” Nick asked softly.

“Don’t go all CSI on me, Nick. Don’t make me go into details I don’t want to. I can’t deal with that right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Greg stayed quiet for a long time, unsure how to continue, or what exactly he should say. Nick didn’t say any more either. Instead, he wrapped his free arm around Greg and pulled him tight against him in a comforting hug, rubbing the small of his back. 

Then, without warning, Greg began to speak against his own will, mumbling into Nick’s shirt, “Then...that day you took me to the hospital...before I got to work...he...he...” Greg stopped, the lump in his throat growing larger. He didn’t think he could say this out loud, but he’d already started so there could be no going back. 

“What did he do to you, G?”

Nick pulled away to let Greg talk more freely. 

“He....tied me up...and it....it hurt...so much,” Greg whimpered, feeling the hurt and the pain uncorking inside himself as much as he tried to hold it all down. More tears fell from his eyes. “All....all afternoon....he....he....forced me...” sobs struggled to escape his mouth. “I told him no.....but he wouldn’t listen...”

“Oh God, Greg... it’s going to be ok,” Greg could hear the tears in Nick’s voice as the Texan pulled him closer again, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Everything’s going to be ok. I promise.”

If it hadn’t been gentle and from Nick, Greg was sure he would have run away at the first touch of warm lips against his skin. But it was a good kiss and it made him feel loved, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. His tears began to subside, and his voice calmed down. The truth wasn’t over. There was still more to tell, but he couldn’t let himself go because Derek was still out there, looking for him. He was used to hurting anyway, and living through it, smiling at work when he was covered in bruises. It was nothing new. Carefully, he bottled up the few emotions he’d let escape and shelved them back inside his heart. 

“He found me at the hospital...” Greg continued. “And when he got me home...he punished me...he didn’t want me leaving him again. Said he would make sure I didn’t. He was mad because I was forcing him to get a job to support us both when I didn’t deserve it. He said he hoped that by the time he got back from wherever he was going that I would have understood and would work hard to be more deserving of everything he was doing for me. That’s why he had me chained up when you found me...so I wouldn’t leave. He’ll be mad now...now that I’m gone. And because...I don’t have his collar on. He always liked me to wear it when I was away from him, as a constant reminder that I belonged to him. He reminds me incessantly of the scar my scratch made on his face. I know I shouldn’t be complaining and I’m not. It’s just that when he comes home he...he yells at me...cause people looked at him funny. It’s all my fault when he yells and hits me. I scratched him. I can’t do the dishes right. I can’t cook.”

“You don’t belong to anyone but yourself,” Nick’s strained voice reached Greg’s ears and he finally looked up to see anger in the older man’s eyes, his jaw clenched tight. “And it’s not your fault. You were protecting yourself. None of those things are any reason for him to hurt you. I know he’s in homicide but I’ll call Brass....”

“No!” Greg exclaimed and Nick looked down at him in surprise. 

“Nick, please! No cops. Don’t tell anyone. Please!” he begged before looking down in shame. “I don’t want anyone to know. Yes, I am a victim of abuse. Living with you taught me that. But the damage has been done. I’ve been living a lie to the team and I don’t want them to see me this way. They’ll know I’m not strong, that I’ll crumble under the merest touch.”

“They won’t know that, Greg, because it’s not true.” Nick’s body softened and relaxed a little. “You are strong to be able to tell me what he did to you. The fact that you can say out loud that you are a victim....of....abuse,” Nick struggled to get the word out, “is a sign of a strong person.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t want to be in this world anymore. I know he’s still out there, looking for me and it’s only a matter of time before he finds me again. I don’t want you to get hurt and if you go to the cops he’ll know I’m with you. He’ll find us. I can’t see you get hurt for everything that you’ve done for me. I can’t.” Greg took a deep breath. “Please Nick, just leave me alone. Go to the bookstore...find the one Dean Koontz book you don’t have. Let me leave this world while I still have the choice to go my own way. Or...or stay here....keep me company in my last moments. It would make me feel better, knowing you were here... to see me go,” Greg whispered, looking up into Nick’s deep brown eyes. 

Without warning fear filled them, erasing the small amount of anger that had still been there. 

“Dear God, don’t ask me to do that, please, Greg. I can’t. I won’t. Anything but that!” 

Greg nodded. “Ok,” he whispered, knowing he wouldn’t contemplate it ever again, for Nick’s sake. 

“We’ll get through this, Greg. We’ll get through this together.”

* * *

That one kid who was always working the Seven-Eleven when Warrick got out of work was not the type to be wearing a dog collar proclaiming him to be a Bitch. Warrick sighed, crossing him off the list, which had gone on for several pages of his notebook. Everyone he could think of was crossed off. He didn’t know a single person who would wear the collar and he almost felt like he didn’t know diversity in the number of people he knew. Of course, there was always Lady Heather and her crowd, but he didn’t know any of them. He realized his world was narrow. Not knowing any of her crowd, not having friends that were lesbian or gay, or Latin American, or who had weird fetishes...he took that last one back. Grissom was into bugs, and there had been that killer who had a foot fetish, and though he wouldn’t consider him a friend, Warrick certainly knew him. It was all life. Who he ran into, who he became friends with, it wasn’t like he could just pick and choose. Everything was up to chance. 

“How’s your list coming?” Catherine asked, as she sat down at the table in the break room

“It’s not. Not at all. I just realized that although I’ve seen this collar before, I don’t know anyone who would wear it. My world is too narrow, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Warrick, what are you saying? Did you check the perp list? It could have been someone you helped bring in for some crime you know.”

“Great...let me start another list.”

“How long is your current list?”

“Four pages.”

“And you call your world narrow. Jeez. I bet it’s wider than you imagine it to be. You just don’t know it.”

The door opened and Gil Grissom popped his head inside. “Feds are back get yourselves to the evidence room stat. They want to go over past evidence.”

“Yes sir,” Catherine saluted her boss and broke into laughter once he was gone. 

“Are we in a hospital or something?” Warrick asked. “Or is this the Army? I didn’t even realize I’d enlisted! Someone’s got to clean my eyes for me, I thought I was working for the LVPD Crime Lab all this time.”

“This case,” Catherine said, calming down. “It’s getting to us all. I’ll be so glad when this is over with and life can get back to normal.”

“Yeah, I hear that.”

The two got up and followed Grissom to the layout room. 

Catherine sighed. “Greg and Nick have it so easy this week, not having anything to do with this case.”

“Yeah, I wish I could have gotten to stay home all week. Hell, I’d let someone beat me up just so that I could avoid all this any day.”

The two entered the room where Sara and Grissom had already gathered with Agents Tad, Ferry, and Snop. 

“Did you find anything new at the scene?” Warrick asked them. “I assume you’ve already heard about the messages and the collars.”

“Yes, we have,” Agent Ferry said. “And yes, we think so. We’re just going back over the old evidence to make sure, and to acquaint ourselves.”

“You know you’re going to have to solve this case in less than twenty-four hours if you hope to save another life,” Sara pointed out.

“We know.”

“So, what did you find? We could help you look through the evidence.”

Agent Snop showed them all a photograph she’d taken at the scene that night. Blood spatter covered one of the pale blue walls of the bedroom. She held the photo in one hand and placed three of her fingers against it before pulling them away. 

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Well, judging from the fact that your fingers seem to fit amongst the spatter, I’d say something was there. But what?”

Everyone else gathered around the photo for a glimpse. 

“A tripod,” Grissom said upon first glance. 

“That’s what we were thinking.”

Catherine, Sara, and Grissom began to look through the evidence from the past crime scenes for evidence of a tripod.

“So, you’re thinking either there’s pictures somewhere of these crimes happening, or videos?” Warrick asked.

“It’s a strong possibility.”

“Damn, and we thought this guy was good. How stupid can he be to take pictures?”

“He is good, Warrick,” Grissom corrected. “We still don’t know who he is, whether he got pictures or not. And if he did tape this, that suggests he likes to be in control, and he’ll want to watch them over and over and over again, relishing in his control over the victims.”

“Right. But once we find him, he should have the evidence that connects him to all of these murders. Then it’ll be a slam dunk.”

Warrick looked up as everyone placed a picture of blood spatter from the different crime scenes on the table. Agent Snop placed her three fingers against all the pictures, acting like the tripod that had obviously been in each of the rooms. 

“So, what else did you find?” Sara asked.

“Leave us alone with the evidence now. We need to go over it. Fresh eyes and all,” Agent Ferry said, shooing them out of the room with a stern gaze. 

The CSIs left. 

“They didn’t find anything else. It’s obvious.”

“I just don’t see how we never saw that tripod!” Warrick exclaimed when they reached the break room. 

“A tripod doesn’t take up much space. It’s like a spider. Its legs are thin, hard to see, especially amongst the spatter like that. Let’s just hope this gives us a viable lead somewhere.”

* * *

Nick wasn’t sure what he was feeling anymore as he sat on the couch and stared at the tv. He was angry at Derek for abusing Greg the way he had, for hurting the man he loved. And he felt pain in his heart for everything Greg had gone through. But then he would look over at Greg sitting beside him, his head resting on his shoulder, sound asleep, and he would smile, feeling his love for the younger man come barging through the other emotions. He knew he should get Greg to bed, but he didn’t want to move him, he looked so sweet. His bandaged left arm lay resting in Nick’s lap just to make sure nothing happened to it, his hand holding onto Nick’s as Nick’s other arm wrapped itself around Greg’s shoulders and held him close. 

On the screen Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar were chasing each other through the grass on Brokeback Mountain and Nick wished that could be him and Greg someday, but he doubted it would happen after everything Greg had been through with Derek. He wasn’t even sure Greg would ever be able to return his love. Wasn’t even sure if Greg loved him at all. Maybe the abuse had something to do with it. He hadn’t said anything about their closeness, or about Nick saying he loved him. So either he did love him and just wasn’t ready to say anything yet, or he didn’t and his time with Derek had taught him to keep his mouth shut about such things. Nick feverishly hoped the second wasn’t true.

“Come on, Greggo, time for bed,” Nick said, giving him a gentle kiss to the forehead as he rubbed his right arm to wake him up. 

“No, I want to finish the movie,” Greg mumbled. “Don’t leave me.”

“Hun, you’re already falling asleep and this is a long movie. And on top of that, you’ve had a long hard day. You need some proper sleep.”

“But I’m comfortable where I am...this pillow is nice...”

Nick smiled the widest smile he’d had in over a week. In his sleepy state Greg was acting like his old self, as if Derek had never happened at all. As if instead, he’d found Nick a year ago. 

“Come on, your pillow will fall asleep soon too, and then where will you be? Hey, I’ll even carry you to bed.”

Greg’s eyes shot open and his body grew tense. 

“I don’t want to sleep alone!”

“Did I say anything about you sleeping alone? Relax Greg. I promised I would take care of you, and I will. Just relax and let me do that. Please?”

“Yeah, ok.”


	14. Chapter 14

Nick stood at the sink washing the dishes from dinner while Greg got the Rent DVD ready to play in the livingroom. A nice quiet night it was going to be. After Greg had told him everything that had happened to him because of his boyfriend the day before, they deserved a nice quiet day before the week was up. Yes, tomorrow they would have to go into work and explain everything to Grissom. Nick was expecting a phone call sometime during the night to remind them of this. Though he wasn’t expecting it quite so soon as the phone began to ring.   
“Stokes and Sanders residence,” he answered again. 

“Cute Nick,” Grissom’s voice came over the line. 

“How come no one likes the way I answer my phone?”

“I didn’t say that. It makes perfect sense if Greg’s staying with you.”

“Yeah. So, you’re just calling to remind us that we have to tell you everything tomorrow night. We already know.”

“Um...actually, no. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Desert Palms Hospital sent you a package. At least, I’m assuming it goes to you. Apparently they didn’t get your name. It says “to the CSI on the Sanders case” and it’s marked urgent. Would you know what that’s about?”

“I’ve already got the x-rays, Griss....I...I don’t know what else they would have...”

“X-rays?”

Nick hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. Had he actually said that out loud? He silently cursed himself. 

“Um, yeah. That is my case.”

“Since when did our Level I CSI become a case? And when were you going to tell me this?”

Nick lowered his voice and moved to the far wall, so that Greg couldn’t hear him as well. 

“Since the night I took him to the hospital. They asked if I was the CSI on the case because they needed to show me some things. I said yes so that I would know what was going on because it was obvious Greg wasn’t going to say anything. I can’t say more than that. Not without Greg here, not without his permission.”

“I really don’t like the sound of this, Nick. But I’m going to stick to what I originally said. You’ve got until the end of the week, and that’s in exactly twenty-four hours. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t. Hey Griss, you don’t happen to know what’s in that package do you?”

“No. It’s addressed to you. I can’t open your mail.”

Relieved, Nick moved back to the dirty dishes.

“Right. Good. Thanks. Um, I’ll be in to pick it up in a few minutes.”

Nick hung up the phone, and leaned over the sink. He wouldn’t be gone long. Just long enough to pick up the package. But could he leave Greg home alone? Greg had asked him to leave him alone just the night before. But when he’d said he couldn’t do it, Greg had said ‘ok’ in a way that made him almost sure he wouldn’t ever think about committing suicide again. But could he be sure? He knew he would always worry every time he had to leave Greg alone. It would do neither of them any good. 

He sighed, and went out into the livingroom. Greg was curled up on the couch, the blanket wrapped around him. The DVD was all set to go. He turned from the tv and looked up at Nick with large eyes. 

“You’re leaving?”

“Just for a little bit. I need to pick something up at the lab and it’s very important.”

“But I thought we were going to watch Rent together?”

“I promise I won’t be gone long. No more than half an hour. And when I get back we can watch it. Ok?”

“Yeah, ok.”

Nick handed him the cordless house phone. 

“I’ll call you if I’m going to be longer than I anticipate. And you call me if you need anything.”

Greg only nodded.

“Will you be ok while I’m gone?”

“Sure.”

Nick went to grab his jacket, wallet, keys, and cell phone before he headed for the door. He stopped and turned back to Greg who was staring mindlessly at the tv as the song “Seasons of Love” wrapped around again for the millionth time on the menu. Walking back to the couch he fell to his knees in front of Greg. 

“Greg, I’m going to keep telling you this until you tell me to stop. Because it’s true.”

Greg looked at him with questioning eyes though he stayed silent. 

“I love you. I always have, and I always will. No matter what.” 

He leaned in and kissed Greg gently on the forehead. When he pulled away he thought he saw a smile flicker across his face for a split second, but then it was gone.

* * *

Upon entering the lab Nick found Grissom in his office, the package for him sitting on his boss’s desk. 

“What’s going on? I see the Feds are here?” Nick asked, reaching for the large padded vanilla envelope. 

He ripped it open as Grissom began to speak but he didn’t hear a word as he saw the results of a test: a Sexual Assault Examination the hospital had done on Greg while he’d still been passed out. His heart stopped beating for what seemed like an eternity and he stared at the paper in front of him, reading the nurse’s words, “positive for repeated rape over a long period of time. Not just a one time incident....Sorry we weren’t able to talk to him or hold him until you came back. But we were able to map out his injuries for you and collect a sample of....”

<i>“Then...that day you took me to the hospital...before I got to work...he...he...” Greg stopped for a moment. 

“What did he do to you, G?”

Nick pulled away to let Greg talk more freely. 

“He....tied me up...and it....it hurt...so much,” Greg whimpered and more tears fell from his eyes. “All....all afternoon....he....he....forced me...” sobs struggled to escape his mouth but he held them in. “I told him no.....but he wouldn’t listen...”

“Oh God, Greg... it’s going to be ok,” Nick felt tears filling his own eyes and running down his own face now as he pulled Greg closer again, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Everything’s going to be ok. I promise.”</i>

Nick had never heard Greg whimper before and he prayed to God he would never have to hear that again. It had sounded so pitiful, so sad, and painful. And to think it was all because of the man who was supposed to love him. His boyfriend. His boyfriend had abused and raped him for almost a whole year. The words seared into his skull as if they’d been put there by a hot branding iron. 

“What’s with the tragic look?”

Nick looked up to see Catherine, Warrick, and Sara in the doorway. 

“You’re not gonna keel over and die on us are you?”

Nick ignored them and looked back into the padded envelope to see a container nestled in the bottom. He cringed, knowing exactly what it was. Pain scorched his heart and if he’d been alone, he just might have done as Catherine thought. But Derek was still alive, still free, and Greg needed him. He couldn’t leave him now. He could only thank God that although he hated the thought, the hospital had been smart enough to do a test and gather evidence for him. Now he just had to find Wendy to make sure it was Derek’s DNA, if the guy even had a profile. 

“Uh, Nick? You ok?”

“I need to find Wendy. And then I need to go home.”

He started to walk out the door as Catherine leaned over to read the paper in his hands. 

“Why do you have results from an SAE?” she asked. “You haven’t been working and you don’t have a case.”

He couldn’t even think about Greg, the man he loved, as a victim, let alone a rape victim. How could he be expected to talk about it? 

“Please, just don’t ask. I can’t talk about it,” Nick managed. 

Warrick jumped in and changed the topic of conversation. If only slightly.

“How’s Greg doing? Is he coming back any time soon?”

“Yeah, it’s been way to quiet around here without him.”

Nick turned to face them mere inches from the lab that had once been Greg’s before he’d moved to the field. He relaxed a little bit, and his face softened. 

“Yeah, he’s doing fine. I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” he assured them before ducking into Wendy’s lab.

“Hey Nick. Long time, no see. Heh, long time no work for me to process either.”

“What do you mean?”

“You been listening to the new lately? It seems like the whole city’s taken a break from crime during the night except this one guy. Serial killer, who leaves no evidence.”

“Damn. Look, I’ve got something I need you to process.”

“Oh! Work! Whoever thought I’d be happy to hear someone say that was correct tonight! So, what’ve you got?”

“I need you to keep this between you and me. Got that? I mean it. No one else can know about this.”

“Sure thing,” she said, skeptically. 

He took out the sample the hospital had sent over.

“This is a sample from an SAE kit,” he cringed again at the words. “I need to know who’s DNA it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you. Call my cell when you figure it out.”

“Will do.”

Wendy got right to work on the sample and Nick left the DNA lab, preparing to go home. He pulled out his cell phone to call Greg and tell him he’d be home soon when Warrick was suddenly walking beside him. 

“Nick, if you’ve got a moment, I could really use some help on that case you gave me. I just need your opinion.”

Nick looked at his phone and sighed. He hadn’t been there a full half an hour yet. He could spare a few more minutes. 

Warrick ran down the facts of the case they had so far, as he steered Nick in the direction of the break room where everyone else was lounging around. 

“Why aren’t we in the layout room or something?”

“The Feds are in there. They’re trying to take over the case. But they’ve got squat just as much as we do.”

“Ah. Well, I’d say you’re right with a message like that. The people he’s choosing to kill are chosen on purpose but still randomly. I mean, any random gay couple could be a target,” Nick shivered and thought of Greg as he spoke. 

“So, you think this guy wants his boyfriend back? Or is it a father angry because he found out his son is gay? Or what?” Warrick asked, handing Nick a coffee mug before sitting beside him.

“More likely the first. But what other evidence do you have?”

“Collars.”

“Collars?”

“Yeah, this guy’s good. All he left us was that message, and on each victim he puts a dog collar around their necks. The first one was plain, but after that, he got fancy. Each one is black with dark red blood drops tooled into them. We got a description of the guy from the guy who made the collars, but all it got us was a bad description of another guy he was seen with a few times about a year ago.”

Nick’s mind felt like a light bulb with a child learning how to turn it on and off. This case reminded him so much of something, something he was close to. His mind blanked, then came alive, this was so familiar, then went blank again...

“Describe this other guy for me.”

“He’s thin, not very muscular, sandy brown hair, and he’s got a gorgeous smile that can light up the whole room,” Catherine read Brass’s notes. 

“Greg,” Nick said. 

“What?”

The others sat up straighter.

“He fits that description to a T and you’ve never payed attention to him when he’s truly happy. His smile can turn your world upside down in an instant.”

Everyone stared at him.

“What else have you got?” Nick said, a little unnerved by their stares and the description of Greg. 

“One other collar. He bought this one a year ago at the same place. You sure it’s Greg? That’s a vague description. And what would he have to do with this guy anyway?”  
Warrick showed Nick the picture of the black leather studded collar with the word ‘Bitch’ tooled in hot pink. 

Without warning Nick was transported to a night at work not that long ago...

<i> Sitting down on the bench in the locker room Nick’s heart was pounding and there seemed to be no way to calm it down. Standing only a few feet away with his back to him, was Greg. Nick had been pretty quiet when he’d come in, so he figured Greg didn’t even know he was there as he began to take his shirt off to change into something clean. There was his creamy white skin laced with scars from the lab explosion...and a...bruise? Yes, there was a large fading bruise on Greg’s right side greeting him. But whatever it was from it was going away, so Greg was ok, and all Nick wanted to do was wrap his arms around Greg’s waist and hold him tight, kiss his neck.... But what was that? Something not creamy white skin. A... necklace.... no... collar... dog collar.... black leather... silver studs... hot pink letters... spelling... ‘Bitch’... but what was Greg doing wearing that? It wasn’t...of course in his past he’d always worn odd clothing, and gone a little Goth on occasion, but this? This wasn’t him. He would never wear something that proclaimed himself a Bitch. Would he? 

Greg reached into his locker and came out with a clean shirt and slipped it on. It was a collared shirt, similar to the one he’d just taken off. Similar to all the shirts he’d been wearing for the past few months Nick realized. And he was confused by this, and unsure what, if anything, he should do about it. Should he say something? Ask what was up with the odd collar? No. No, that was Greg’s private life and he wouldn’t intrude. It would be wrong. Greg obviously liked the collar, otherwise he wouldn’t be wearing it. Duh.

Nick turned away from Greg and stood up to open his locker. 

“Hey Greg,” he greeted, as if he’d only just walked in. 

Greg turned around, buttoning his shirt up fast. 

“Oh, hey Nick.” 

And the collar was hidden from view once again. </i>

But Nick wasn’t stupid anymore. Never again would he make such a dumb mistake when he knew he should have said something. Now, it all made sense. Perfect sense. Crystal clear. He’d known. Deep inside, that night he’d known something was wrong. But he hadn’t done anything. He’d stayed silent, letting Derek keep control of Greg, letting him hurt him over and over and over again. Never again, Nick vowed. 

“Nicky? You ok? You’re not yourself tonight. What’s going on?” he vaguely heard someone ask. 

“It’s Derek,” he said.

“Derek? Derek who? What are you talking about?”

A phone rang and everyone checked theirs. 

“Grissom....a name?” 

Everyone turned to face Grissom but his eyes were on Nick. 

“Yes...yes, he’s right here....keep the scene...we’ll be there ASAP.” Grissom hung up. Still looking at Nick he said, “He’s mine. If I can’t have him neither can Nicky.”

The other CSIs turned to look at Nick, their eyes wide. 

“Thank God the Feds aren’t here,” Warrick whistled. “This is too personal. What’s the ID?”

“Just like all the others,” Grissom said. “A random member of a gay couple.”

Nick felt like his whole body had shut down and he didn’t know what to do. Derek was after Greg, he’d been killing people to let Nick know about it...and....he’d left Greg alone for the first time.

He lifted his phone, almost in a daze, to call Greg when it rang, startling him out of his daze. He blinked. The number on the screen was his home phone number. He hit the answer button and put the phone to his ear, turning away from the crowd in front of him. 

“Greg?”

“Hey Nick.”

He relaxed when he heard the casualness in his friend’s voice. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’m still on the couch, waiting for you. I’m sorry. I got a little lonely.”

“Hey, it’s ok.”

“Did you get what you went to get? You’ve been gone awhile.”

Nick looked at his watch and realized talking about the case had taken longer than he’d anticipated. 

“Um, yeah, yeah, I did. And I’m coming home right now.”

“I’m getting better,” Greg blurted. “You should stay...catch up with everyone. You haven’t seen them in awhile.”

Nick thought about that, unsure how he should take Greg’s words. 

“Is...is everything ok?” he asked hesitantly. 

“You stopped me the other night for a good reason, though I wish you hadn’t. I would have stopped you for that same exact reason,” Greg said quickly, his words ending in a soft whimper. “Please stay, I’ll be fine here for awhile longer without you. You must have a lot to catch up on.”

“Ummmm...”

“Yeah, I’m sure Warrick would love a beer after work. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

And the line was dropped. 

Nick stared at his phone...something was wrong. His words, he wanted Nick to stay at work and take Warrick out for a beer? That signaled an attempt to commit suicide again. And his other words...He’d stopped him from committing suicide but Greg hadn’t wanted him too, they too said the same thing. But the first time he’d attempted it Nick had been there, and he hadn’t made a sound. He’d been happy, not distressed over it. This time, he’d whimpered. That sound Nick hadn’t wanted to hear ever again. He thought over Greg’s words again...and a small smile crept across his face. Greg would have stopped him from killing himself for the same reason he’d stopped Greg. The same reason.... The smile disappeared. Greg wasn’t going to kill himself. He’d wanted to go out earlier while he had the chance to be in control of how he went. He wasn’t in control now. Derek was. 

* * *

“That’s a good boy,” Derek’s rough voice crooned into Greg’s ear as he took the phone and set it down on Nick’s coffee table next to his lock picking tools. 

He sat beside Greg on the brown corduroy couch, his right arm resting easily around Greg’s shoulders with a hunting knife in his hand, pressed up against his boyfriend’s neck. Greg sat still as a stone statue, his hands clasped in his lap, breathing shallowly. He made sure to keep his eyes on his lap and as far away from the scene in his own apartment, in his own bedroom, on what was not his own bed, taking place on the tv screen in front of him. Derek brought his other hand up to Greg’s neck, running his fingers against the smooth silky skin. 

“You’re missing something here. You know that, don’t you?”

Greg gulped. 

“Don’t you?” Derek asked with more force in his voice.

“Yes,” Greg squeeked. 

“Do you know what it is?”

“My... my collar.”

“And what is the purpose of said collar?”

“To show.... to show I’m.... taken.”

“Hmmm taken by whom?”

“You.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I belong to you,” Greg whispered. 

“Good boy. Now, why didn’t you remember that when you ran away?!” Derek’s voice roared into his ear and he struggled not to flinch against the knife. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Heh. Not as sorry as you’re gonna be.”

Derek’s hands left Greg’s neck but he didn’t move an inch. The man pulled out a dog collar from his pocket. Black leather, silver studs, and hot pink letters tooled into the leather. He unhooked it and placed it around Greg’s neck carefully, as if he were placing an expensive diamond necklace on a woman. 

Greg could only hope Nick had taken his hint about getting a beer with Warrick so that he would stay away from the apartment while Derek did whatever he had planned to him. He also prayed Nick understood his other words. But he would never really know as he’d be long gone before Nick got back from work and his beer. 

“You disobeyed me, Greg. And you know what that means.”

Greg slowly nodded. “Pain.”

“That’s right. See, you do know some things. But that won’t help you now.”

Derek stood up and grabbed Greg’s wrist and pulled him to his feet, dragging him towards the bedroom. Greg stumbled after him, willing his emotions to stay down, to not show Derek how much fear he actually carried at that moment. Without warning Derek rounded on him and punched him in the face. Greg stumbled again and fell to the ground, gasping for breath. 

“Nothing can help you now, Bitch. You belong to me and you ran away. You misbehaved too many times and now your time is up.”

Derek reached down and grabbed Greg’s shirt, pulling him back up onto his weak legs. He punched him in the face again, harder this time. He let his shirt go and watched as Greg tripped backward into the corner where he finally landed in a heap. Carefully he looked up at Derek, expecting another hand to his body, but none came. 

Instead, his boyfriend now carried a hammer, a long length of heavy chain, and a large U shaped nail. He watched as Derek, clad in a pair of loose jeans and a white t-shirt, climbed up onto the end of Nick’s bed. He reached up toward the ceiling, looped the two ends of chain over the nail and began to hammer it into the ceiling above the bed. 

As Greg cowered in the corner, He hoped against all hope that this was only a dream and that Nick would wake him up in a few minutes, He could easily see the scar he’d left on Derek’s left cheek several months ago. It went from his eye down to his jaw and gave him an evil look. 

Derek jumped down from the bed, dropping the hammer to the floor with a loud bang. Greg flinched and his boyfriend smirked at his fearfulness as he marched over, and hauled Greg to his feet again, pushing him roughly onto the bed. Lying on his back next to a pair of handcuffs, Derek straddled him, keeping him in place as he slid his hands underneath his shirt. 

“Mmmmmm... I’ve missed you for too long, Greg. How could you do such a thing to me, to deny me the body I want?”

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not. But you will be when I’m done with you. It’s too bad we can’t have a little fun first.”

Derek slid his shirt up to his chin and pinned his arms by his sides. He examined Greg’s naked torso, running his hands over the yellowing bruises that were left. 

“I see my marks on you, my claim to your body, are going away. But don’t worry. When I’m done with you, you’ll have fresh marks, new marks, of a different breed. Marks that will never go away. Not even after you’re dead.”

Greg’s mind had gone blank. He couldn’t think about what was going to happen to him. He couldn’t think about Derek’s words. He blanked it all out and let Derek roughly guide him. He felt the sweat pants he’d still had on loan from Nick slid down his legs, while Derek kept his arms pinned to his body. Now, he was only dressed in his t-shirt and boxers. He felt a whimper coming up his throat, trying to escape his mouth, but he valiantly held it down and blanked everything out again. 

Derek leaped off him, and pulled him to his knees on the bed, so that he was facing the painting of the horse herd running over the dry Texas earth, stirring up a cloud of dust. He stared at it, memorizing every detail, as he felt his arms being raised high above his head. Cold metal handcuffs encircled his wrists and Derek let his body go. Greg swayed gently as if he was a flag in a breeze, but he stayed upright. 

Derek bounced off the bed and came around to face Greg, the knife in his hands again. 

“So, what happened to your arm?” he asked, laughter in his eyes, as he gripped Greg’s left arm in his hand. 

Greg whimpered at the rough touch to his still painful arm. 

“I tripped and fell?” he tried. 

Derek sneered and laughed out loud before hooking the end of the knife underneath the white bandage and slicing it open. He studied the long slice for a moment, seeing the fresh scar tissue beginning to close over it. 

“You tried to get out of your punishment! You little bitch! Maybe I should be thanking your little friend for saving your life so that I can take my time in dispensing your

punishment.” 

* * *

“What the fuck are you telling me?!” Warrick exploded at Nick. “You’re telling me this fucker was after Greg the whole damn time?!?! And I didn’t know it! It was Greg, all along, who had that collar?! He was the first person I thought of and I cleared him!!! I cleared him! It’s not supposed to be one of our own! Never one of our own!”

Catherine jumped to her feet and quickly stepped between the two men, facing Warrick. 

“Calm down, Warrick. Just calm down.”

“No! I can’t calm down, Cath! I had the key the whole time! I should have known it was Greg!”

Wendy poked her head inside and looked at Nick. 

“I tried to page you, but you’re not answering. And I heard the shouting.”

“What have you got?” Nick was beside her in seconds. 

She handed him the print out. 

“Derek Eaterman. I checked his last known address too.” She pointed further down the page.

Nick glanced at it, and realized it was Greg’s. But he knew that’s not where they were. Greg had called from his own home phone and had begged him to stay at work. That meant they were staying there. Otherwise, why call? 

“Griss, I know he’s there, I know Derek is going to hurt Greg!” He felt the fear rising within him. “I have to go home!”

“You’re absolutely sure about this? Without a doubt?”

Nick nodded. 

“Alright, everyone, move out!” Grissom called, picking up his cell phone and dialing a number. “Brass, leave a uniform at the scene, we need you at Nick’s!” he shouted as the CSIs ran down the hall of the lab to the parking lot. “Catherine, you’re driving! Nick, you’re going to tell me EVERYTHING! Now! I don’t care what Greg says!”

Everyone piled into a Denali, Catherine at the wheel, Nick riding shot gun, and the other three in the back seat. 

“Talk,” their boss ordered Nick as Catherine eased the SUV out of the parking space and speed out of the lot. “I need to know how you know this is true.”

“He’s been in an abusive relationship with Derek for almost a year and I saw him with that collar once. When I took him to the hospital, that was the night you gave me the first crime scene of this guy. The message clearly wasn’t supposed to continue. But it did when I went to Greg’s and got him out of there.”

“So, how do you know he’s there now, with Greg?”

Grissom was the only person with a professional air left. Everyone else had shocked looks on their faces at Nick’s words. 

“His last words... he wanted me to stay at work, take Warrick out for a beer later. He wanted me to stay away. Stay away from my own apartment.”

Nick sighed, relieved that he’d managed to come up with a good enough reason that was true but didn’t include Greg attempting to kill himself to get away from Derek. 

“I shoulda seen this!” Warrick exclaimed. “Damn it! I’m not a CSI for nothing! And I couldn’t see he was being abused?! What the hell’s wrong with me?!”

“We’ve been over this before,” Catherine commented. “None of us saw it.”

“He was good at hiding it,” Nick said quietly, remembering the night he’d hung up from talking with Catherine to find Greg with the knife in his hand, and blood dripping from his arm. 

“What are you not telling me?” Grissom asked, his voice still calm. 

“Nothing! Cath, can’t you drive any faster! I’m not losing him to that bastard!”

“Not in this traffic, Nicky. We’ll get there, don’t worry.”

“I am worried!”

“Nick!” Grissom shouted. “What are you not telling me?”

Nick looked back into the calm eyes of his supervisor and he could feel his barriers breaking inside. 

“He tried to kill himself the other night.”

Catherine nearly slammed on the breaks as she whipped her head to look at him for a second before turning back to the road. Everyone else stared at him, even more in shock now. 

“So, he told you to go have a beer with Warrick so that he could kill himself while you were gone,” Sara said with a cold edge to her voice. 

“No. No, that’s not it.”

“You left him alone! Didn’t you think this would happen?”

“Sara,” Grissom scolded. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Nick, continue.”

“I stopped him. He was fine. Shaken, but fine. He just wanted to be in control of the way he went out of this world. He didn’t want Derek to do it for him. When he called... he said... he said... he wished I hadn’t stopped him but that he would have stopped me for the same reason I stopped him. He wished I hadn’t... because Derek’s there, with him, and he’s going to kill him. I know it. He was upset on the phone, but he wasn’t when he tried it the other day. He was... happy... to have control over his life. But not tonight.”

Catherine broke in, “And you were gone from home long enough already that he could have easily done it already if he had a mind to.”

“Yes.”

Everyone else was silent. Nick thought about his reasoning for saving Greg and Greg’s words and the thought made him both happy and angry. He would find Derek, even if he had to track him to the ends of the earth and beyond to dispatch him into the next world just so that he could find out if Greg really meant what he’d said. He prayed while Catherine maneuvered around a dozen cars, that Greg had been telling the truth and not just trying to make him happy. 

A short clip of a police siren behind them made everyone turn in their seats. Brass was there. Cath sent a signal back as they raced along the street, the heavy traffic finally having thinned out a little. 

“What reason did you have for stopping him?” Grissom finally asked. 

But they were already pulling into the parking lot of Nick’s apartment building and he was already jumping out of the Denali as Catherine brought the vehicle to a stop. Nick didn’t even look back at the others. He dashed through the front door and up the stairs to his front door. Trying the door knob and finding it locked he didn’t think twice before kicking it in. 

In the livingroom a stack of homemade videos littered the floor. The tv was on and he was repulsed by what he saw there, wanting to be able to shut his ears so he couldn’t hear Greg’s pleading for his boyfriend not to hurt him anymore. He ground his teeth together and clenched his hands into fists, ready to deck the guy the first moment he saw him. 

Moving on to the bedroom, Nick stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. Greg’s wrists had been chained to the ceiling, holding him in a kneeling position on the bed. His shirt had been sliced open down the front and the bandage that had covered his left arm was lying on the floor. In one corner a small video camera on a tripod sat covered in blood, facing Greg. 

Derek, an ugly man sporting the scar Greg had left him with, was standing before him, brandishing a hunting knife while he studied Greg’s chest as if he was contemplating what type of pattern he could cut that would look best there. 

“Once they find out you’re nothing but a disobeying Bitch that’s not even good for a fuck anymore no one will want you,” Derek was saying before he slowly turned to face Nick in the doorway and smiled.

Greg looked over at Nick too and his eyes went wide with fear when he saw who it was. 

“What are you doing here? I told you to stay away,” Greg said in a quiet voice before the rest of the team and Brass arrived behind Nick and took in the scene. 

Nick saw Greg flinch away from everyone, turning his head away, as if that would stop them from seeing him at the mercy of his abusive boyfriend. 


	15. Chapter 15

Nick was frozen to the spot as Derek watched him, and continued to smile an evil little smile. His mind had gone blank and he didn’t know what to do. But he had to do something! Anything! It was as if his feet had grown roots right through the floor into the apartment below until a pair of hands pushed him to the side and a decidedly male voice said “Go to Greg. He needs you.”

And then Warrick was in the middle of the room launching himself at Derek ready to take him down. Derek grinned wider and turned away from Greg, holding the knife point out toward the taller man. 

“You hurt my friend. I wouldn’t want to attempt a fight with me if I were you cause I’ll hurt you if I have too. And so will everyone else here,” Warrick said in an even tone. 

Derek said nothing only moved closer to him. Behind him, Nick heard Brass on the phone calling for backup, though he couldn’t hear the actual words being said. Greg’s face was still averted from the crowd that had gathered but Nick could see a look of shame coming over him. His mind raced into gear. Greg. He needed to be by Greg’s side, needed to get him down. 

Nick moved forward then, skirting to the left to avoid Derek and Warrick. As he passed them Derek moved the knife sideways and jabbed it in Nick’s direction. Nick jumped forward at the same moment Warrick leaped onto Derek, grabbing his wrist and twisting it hard, forcing him to drop the weapon. 

“You know I wondered just now why I decided not to carry today. But I’m not upset about it cause now I get to beat your ass!”

“Are you ok?” Nick asked when he got to Greg’s side, his eyes automatically drawn to the dog collar around his neck. 

Greg nodded but didn’t say anything as he stared at the ground. 

“Ok, hold on and I’ll get you down. Do you know where the keys are to the handcuffs?”

“I...I think... I heard them fall... by the door?” Greg’s voice was quiet, shy.

Nick looked back, around the fighting men to the floor by Catherine’s feet in the doorway and saw the keys. As they struggled Warrick kicked the knife underneath the dresser. Derek threw him a punch and he blocked it, pushing his hand away, circling his arm with his own and then taking hold of his second wrist in a tight grip. 

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” Nick said, looking deep into Greg’s brown orbs, hoping he would understand that he was telling the truth.

Warrick was now behind Derek doing his best to hold the man’s arms behind his back for Brass to cuff them while he struggled like a wild animal to get free. Nick saw Greg’s look of shame on his face, the blood dripping from his arm as he held the kitchen knife in his hands, heard his quiet voice admit everything Derek had ever done to him, that he was a victim of abuse, he saw Greg chained to the wall in his own home, and rage filled his heart. As he approached he saw nothing but the man who’d hurt Greg, the man who deserved to be punished for his crimes. Greg hadn’t done anything to deserve what he got. But Derek... he was another matter and nothing that happened to him would ever make Nick happy. 

As Warrick struggled to hold the man still Nick let fly with a punch to his gut, making him double over. He threw another punch to his face, letting the rage consume him. He pounded into the man as hard as he could, over and over and over again.

“You never own anyone else but yourself! And you never ever hurt someone like that!” Nick shouted, slamming his fist into Derek’s face. 

There was an audible crack and blood began to spurt from his nose as the man screamed. 

“Let him go,” he said to Warrick, his voice low and angry. “I’ll boil him alive. I’ll kill him.”

He hardly noticed the other people entering the room before Warrick was behind him, grabbing his arms and holding him back. Nick looked up, startled, to see Brass pulling the now badly beaten Derek Eaterman away from him a few feet. 

“Let it go,” Warrick was saying. “Let it go. We’ve got him. Calm down, Nick.”

“Did he hurt you? What did he do?” Nick heard Grissom’s voice and swivelled around to see Catherine, Sara, and Grissom all standing before Greg, concern on their faces. Catherine held the keys to the handcuffs in her hand. The look on Greg’s face clearly said he was uncomfortable with them standing so close. A small whimper escaped his lips as Catherine reached up to uncuff him.

“What hurts?” she asked, bringing her hands back down. 

Nick wrenched from Warrick’s tight grasp and was beside Greg in seconds. 

“N.... nothing. I’m fine,” he whispered, looking at Nick, imploring him to do something to keep them away from him. 

“I’ll get you down,” Nick said, taking the keys from Catherine. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Ok? Are you ok with this? Do you trust me?”

Around him, Nick could feel the stares of his coworkers as he talked to Greg and asked for his trust. He knew they didn’t understand what was going on, but that hardly mattered. He needed to get Greg down, and he wasn’t going to risk losing everything he’d gained in the past week. 

Greg nodded with a little reluctance. “I trust you, Nicky.”

Nick reached up and unlocked the cuffs. Greg stayed upright for a few seconds, doing his best not to fall, but he was still dramatically underweight which made him weaker faster. He lost his balance and would have crashed into Nick if Nick’s arms weren’t already around him, holding him up. He moved to Greg’s side and swept him up into his arms and set him down on the floor. 

“Lean on me, G. Are you ok? How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be ok,” Greg said, leaning on Nick’s arm. 

“Hey, I didn’t snag your keys when we left your place. Did you?” Nick asked.

“No. Why?”

“Because he’s been living at your apartment. Warrick, check him for keys,” Nick nodded toward the sneering Derek who’d been trying to escape the handcuffs with no success. “He’s been living with Greg for most of the year, I’ll bet you’ll find more evidence over there.”

“Which pocket?” Warrick asked. 

But Derek said nothing, only continued to sneer at Greg, with hatred in his eyes. 

“Ok, I didn’t want to do this, but I’m gonna have to search you.”

Brass’s backup arrived in the doorway just then and two of them moved to hold Derek still while Warrick patted him down and removed a set of keys from his left jeans pocket. 

“You want me to go process over there?” Warrick asked Grissom. 

“Yes. And Sara, you go with him. Cath, you and I can process here once everyone else is gone.”

Without warning two men and a woman came barging into the room, each dressed in a plain black suit and white shirt. 

Beside him, Greg went stiff. Nick swiftly turned to stand in front of him, facing him, and shielding him from the new people neither of them had met before, though he knew them just the same.

“They’re going to take me away,” Greg whispered so low only Nick could hear him. 

His hands began to shake and Nick took them in his own and began to rub circles into them. 

“I’ve got you, G. They’re not going to take you anywhere. You’re ok. You’re safe. Hey, you want to know how special you are?”

Greg looked up at him with tear filled eyes. 

“They called in the Feds to help with your case, so they could catch Derek sooner.”

“I thought Griss hated the Feds,” Greg said, disbelieving him. 

“Yeah well, you’re special enough for him to put that hate aside for a little while.”

The smallest hint of a laugh bubbled out of Greg before it was suppressed. 

“You! Grissom!” One of the suited men called across the room. “Why the hell weren’t we notified about this?!”

“I’m terribly sorry Agent Tad but we just didn’t have the time to find you,” Gil said in his usual calm voice. 

“He’s all yours,” Brass said to the Feds, nodding toward Derek. “He’s the one you’re after.”

“Get him out of here!” Agent Tad said to the two who’d come with him.

“You will always belong to me!” Derek’s voice rang out, and Nick spun around to face him. “You stupid Bitch! Nobody else will ever want you except me!” 

The two agents dragged him away and Nick turned back to Greg. Many emotions were crossing into his eyes in seconds before he was able to get them under control again. 

“You ok?”

Greg only nodded before looking down at the floor in disgrace. Nick wished there and then that everyone else had left with Derek. He needed alone time with Greg to make sure he was ok, to make sure Derek’s words hadn’t hit home, that they’d only been glancing blows. But he knew they’d gone deep and were now seeds burrowing themselves in Greg’s mind, getting ready to sprout any time soon. 

“So, is this who the sick bastard was after the whole time?” Agent Tad asked, coming over.

“Yes,” Nick heard Grissom reply. 

“Good. I need to talk to him, ask him some questions. What’s your name?”

Nick stepped in his way. “His name’s Greg Sanders, and he’s not talking to anyone right now.”

“Who the hell are you and how do you think you can get around telling me what I can and cannot do?”

“Nick Stokes, LVPD Criminalistics. And for your information, he was almost killed by his boyfriend. So, if you wouldn’t mind giving him some time to calm down and comprehend what just happened, I think he’d greatly appreciate it. As would I.”

“Look, Agent, we have some scene processing that needs to be done, including him. So, if you wouldn’t mind, stepping out, while we get to work, we’ll let you know when we’re done with him.”

“Well I want him in interrogation as soon as possible! By the way, his arm looks bad. He should be in a hospital or something,” Agent Tad commented. 

“Around here, we take care of our own. He’s a member of my team as well. If he needs medical attention we’ll be sure that he gets it.”

“If they’re both members of your team, how the fuck could you not have told us about all this before hand and saved us all the trouble?!”

“Excuse me, but what do you think the rest of my team has been doing all this time? We had no idea he was connected to the scenes. We knew nothing until tonight.” 

The Federal Agent scowled and left the room. 

Grissom turned to Greg, Catherine still standing beside him. 

“You realize you’re evidence now, right Greg?”

The younger man only nodded, still staring at the floor. 

“We’re going to have to process you.” 

“I’ll do it,” Nick said. “My kit’s just out in the hall.”

“You can’t, Nick. You’re too close to the case.”

Nick glared at his boss. “No one else is touching him. I’ll take him to the bathroom.”

Catherine’s eyes opened wide in shock but she said nothing. 

“No,” Grissom stated. 

“Then everyone in this apartment, including you two, and all those uniforms, Brass included, need to get out of here. Come on Grissom, give him some privacy, please!”

“Fine.” Grissom nodded at Catherine, Brass, and the few officers standing out in the livingroom and they all departed. “But I’m staying. You’re too close to this to do it on your own.”

Nick glowered but went to get his kit. 

“Uh, Nick?” Catherine poked her head in through the front door. “Your door won’t stay closed.”

Nick sighed, as he picked up his crime scene kit and set it down on the coffee table. 

“Griss, would you do me a favor and go hold the door closed. Greg, can you come out here? I promise this won’t take long.”

Both men did as he asked. Greg stopped two feet away from Nick. 

“Ok, turn around?”

Greg turned so that his back was to Grissom, leaning against the door. Nick picked up his camera. 

“Now, you and I are the only two people in this room. Ok? No one else is here.”

“Then don’t do this! Please don’t do this!” Greg nearly sobbed. 

“I’m sorry, Greg. But you’re evidence. I have to do this. The sooner we get started the sooner we can get this finished. Now, I’m just going to take a few pictures.”

“Don’t treat me like a real victim. We have the same job. I know what you have to do,” Greg said with a hint of anger in his quiet voice.

“Even if your name was Catherine Willows, I would still tell you what I’m about to do. I’ve found it helps people relax and cope a little.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

Nick lowered the camera from his eye to look at Greg. Angry Greg. The same Greg who couldn’t show emotions all week. He never would have thought he’d get upset over something like this. He’d been nearly sobbing one moment and angry the next. Was this progress? Nick was curious to see what Grissom’s reaction to all this was but he didn’t want to take his eyes away from Greg, to remind the younger CSI that they weren’t alone. And besides, Grissom knew nothing about Greg holding back his emotions, so for him Greg being angry wouldn’t mean much or at least not the same thing. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Greg looked down in disgrace. 

Nick cupped his chin and raised his head so he could look into Greg’s beautiful brown eyes. In them, Nick found a hint of worry, fear, and confusion. Nick was smiling all the same. 

“I like that,” he said. “I want you to hate the process. I want you to be vocal about it. Of course we still have to go through it, but you’re not going to be punished for speaking out. And if you don’t want me to tell you what I’m doing, then I won’t.”

Without another word, Nick let Greg go and began to snap a few pictures moving around Greg to take more.

“Everyone knows about Derek ... and ... me?” Greg asked, hesitantly. 

“Raise your arms,” Nick said, squeezing off a few more shots before coming around to face Greg again. He stopped, choosing his words carefully, thinking about the case he’d drawn the week before. “The night I took you to the hospital I drew his case because everyone was swamped, otherwise I wouldn’t have left your side that night.”

Greg looked at him questioningly. 

“I didn’t know the case was related to you at all and I didn’t know who Derek was at the time. A dead body with a message. That’s all it was to me. I passed it off to Warrick when I knew you needed me more than the job. That one case, turned out to be the start of a week of similar killings.”

Greg shivered. 

“Derek was leaving me a message that he wanted you back, but I didn’t know it. He left no evidence so no one could connect him to the crimes, until I went to work last night and was able to put the puzzle together.” He paused for a moment. “You know I’ll never be able to forgive myself for leaving you home alone tonight. I don’t even know how he found this place. All my careful planning to keep myself safe couldn’t keep you safe. I’m sorry.”

With gentle gloved hands Nick lowered Greg’s arms to his sides before moving the sliced t-shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, revealing the black collar around his neck as if it were a cancerous growth on the delicate stem of a beautiful flower. Once the shirt was free he bagged it and labeled it. Now staring at the collar that almost physically bound Greg to Derek Nick felt the anger resurfacing. He loathed that collar and wanted nothing more than to get it off Greg as quickly as possible. 

“He could have followed us on our walk, or when you first brought me home,” Greg interrupted his thoughts.

Home. Nick felt tears prickle in his eyes but he was on the job at the moment and held them back. Yes. Greg had called his apartment home. Home. It felt so good to hear that word on his lips, even if it did mean he’d been lax in his job of looking out for stalkers. 

Nick reached up to unbuckle the collar around his neck when Greg stopped him with his hand. He looked at Greg in surprise. 

“No. Don’t,” he choked out. “Please.”

“Greg, it’s evidence. I have to take it.” He did his best to hide his hatred of the thing. 

“I can’t do it. Not right now. Don’t make me,” Greg pleaded. 

Nick nodded, hating this as much as he hated child molesters, if not more. His gloved hands left the collar and gently fell to Greg’s bare shoulders. He looked into Greg’s eyes again. 

“Change isn’t easy, Micky,” he said, quoting One Door Away From Heaven as much for himself as for Greg. “Changing the way you live means changing how you think. Changing how you think means changing what you believe about life. That’s hard, sweetie. When we make our own misery, we sometimes cling to it even when we want so bad to change, because the misery is something we know. The misery is comfortable.”

Greg nodded. “Aunt Gen.”

“You can’t keep that for much longer. I’ll need it sooner rather than later. Preferably before the night’s over. But I’ll give you some time to get used to the idea of not having it. Ok?”

“Thank you.”

With Greg still so thin, he bruised easier and quicker. Nick picked up his camera and started taking more pictures of Greg, this time without the shirt, capturing every injury and every bruise that covered his body. Moving down Greg’s right arm he caught the marks of Derek’s tight grip earlier that night. On his face, he caught the fresh bruises Derek had also left. On his chest and back he caught the older, yellowing bruises. And on his left arm, above his elbow Nick found more finger marks. He moved down the arm and snapped a picture of the long fresh scar Greg had inflicted upon himself. 

“Nick, you know that didn’t come from him. Please don’t put it into evidence.”

“As much as you don’t want anyone to know about it, it is evidence, because it did come from Derek. Maybe it wasn’t direct from his hand, but he still had a hand in it.”

“Please, they can’t know... they can’t!” 

Greg’s eyes were wide with fear and he was beginning to breath heavily. Nick sensed he was on the verge of a breakdown, on the verge of shutting down completely and locking everyone out, including himself. He saw Greg making a last dive for the knife underneath the dresser in his mind and he knew he had to do something, anything, to keep him there with him. 

“Greg, Greg, listen to me! You know Micky’s words. Repeat them to me now. Micky Bellsong. Come on, I know you know this,” Nick encouraged. “What did she say?”

“... I can do what I need to do? I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is?”

“Yes. Now say it again.”

“... I can do what I need to do. I can get where I want to go, no matter how hard it is.”

“I need you to believe that, G. Believe it no matter what. Repeat it again while I finish this.”

Nick got down on his knees and took more snapshots of Greg’s legs. Above him, he heard Greg doing just as he’d instructed in a quiet voice, somehow becoming more firm each time he said Micky’s words. 

He stood up when he was done and looked back into Greg’s eyes again. 

“Now, what did I tell you about talking to Grissom?”

Greg looked confused. 

“You might not remember my words exactly, and that’s ok. But try to remember what I said.”

Greg thought about it for a few minutes. “That... that you would go with me?”

“Yes. You’re not alone in this, G. I will always be right beside you, no matter what. Remember that. Even if we’re not physically together, I’m still here for you. And I’m not leaving until you tell me to. Ok?”

Greg nodded and after a few minutes silence between them he asked, “Are you done yet? I want to get dressed.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, I’m done. Let me find you some clothes.”

There was a quiet knock at the door and Grissom stuck his head outside before letting whoever it was inside. Nick looked up, over Greg’s shoulder to see Catherine walking back in. 

“I just got off the phone with the Sheriff,” she said. “And since you can’t stay here for awhile he’s agreed to see if the city will pay for a room at the Mandalay Bay.”

“You mean we’re not getting a dumpy motel? Wow.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I guess he’s thinking ‘Only the best for our city’s finest’.”

“If only I could believe that.”

“Right,” Catherine snorted. 

“Catherine, several things need to happen before they can get out of here,” Griss broke in. One, Greg needs clothes. Two, Greg needs his arm bandaged, and three, they both need to pack a few things.”

Catherine looked at Nick. 

“Don’t you think someone should look at his arm? A hospital maybe?”

“I did, a few days ago. It’s not as deep as it looks. He’s fine.”

“Ok,” she sighed. “Griss, what do you want me to do?”

“I need you to make a list of everything that gets packed, everything that gets moved.”

“You got it. Nick, where to?” 

Catherine pulled out a notepad and a pen from her pocket. 

Nick looked at Greg who hadn’t moved an inch since she’d come into the room. 

“Stay right here, G. I’ll be right back.”

Greg nodded and Nick went into the bedroom with Catherine following close behind. As he began to pull some of Greg’s new clothes out of the dresser he could hear Greg

speaking from the livingroom. 

“I’m sorry about all this. I didn’t realize he would go that nuts.”

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known this was going to happen,” Grissom’s voice followed. 

After Catherine had taken her notes, Nick went back out to Greg with the clothes. He found Greg still standing in the same spot but he’d turned around to face their boss. 

“Here, you put these on and I’ll go get the bandages and ointment for your arm. Sorry, I haven’t done laundry all week so this is the best fitting clothes you’ve got.”

“That’s ok,” Greg mumbled, taking the clothes from him and quickly getting dressed. 

“Where’s your kit Greg?” Grissom asked out of the blue.

“It... it’s at work... in my locker... where I left it.”

“Good.”

Once Greg was dressed in his currently oversized jeans and t-shirt Nick sat him down on the couch and gently took his arm in his hands and rebandaged it while Grissom and Catherine looked on. 

“How’s that? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No,” Greg shook his head. 

“Good. I’ll get us packed and then we can get out of here.”

“Ok.”

Only a few minutes later he set a duffle bag next to his kit in the livingroom, Catherine following behind him, still making notes on the last few necessities he’d packed. He pulled the used memory card out of his camera and gave it to her before inserting a fresh card and repacking the camera into his kit, making sure he had an evidence bag the right size for the collar. 

Greg looked up at him all of a sudden. “Did you get the book?” he asked.

Nick nodded. “I got some clothes for both of us, shampoo, toothbrushes, that stuff, and yes, I got the book.”

Greg’s eyes lit up with a small happiness before it was gone once again. 

“Griss, can we get out of here now? Do you need us for anything else?”

“I’ve got your cell if I do.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Catherine spoke up. “Brass said he’s sending a uniform over there with you.”

“What?! He thinks we’re going to run or something?”

“Hell no. Of course not, Nick. It’s just a safety precaution, for the both of you.”

“Yeah, ok.”

As they headed out the door, Grissom pulled Nick back for a moment. 

“Nick, just so you know, I’ll be sending Warrick after that collar once he’s done processing. You know you should have gotten that earlier.”

“I know Griss. I know. But in his fragile state, I didn’t want to make anything worse and he’s hanging on by a string right now.”

“Just take good care of him. And don’t forget we’ll need to talk to him about what happened.”

“I know I can’t stall this forever. I’m sure the sooner we do it, the sooner everything can go back to normal for him. But right now, I just want to get him settled and feeling safe again.”

Grissom nodded and Nick made to move out the door again to Greg who was patiently waiting out in the hall with two uniformed officers, though he didn’t look all that comfortable there. 

“Hey, Nicky, that quote you told Greg. I like it. Where did it come from? I don’t recognize it.”

“Dean Koontz.”

“Who?”

“Current popular author, you’ve probably never heard of him. It’s from his book One Door Away From Heaven.”

“Oh...” Grissom looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to find a copy...”

* * *

Greg looked around him at the huge lobby of the Mandalay Bay. He’d been there once before for a crime scene but it was always different when you were a guest. He was surprised the city was paying for this, but didn’t want to ask too many questions just in case they changed their minds. Nick was already doing enough for him as it was, so for him to have to pay for such an expensive room himself wouldn’t go over well. 

“Ok, you’re in room 3313,” the woman at the front desk was telling Nick. “The door man right over there would be happy to assist you with your luggage, Sir.”

“Oh, no. That’s alright. We’ll be fine, thanks.”

Greg stuck close to Nick as he turned away from the counter, picked up the duffle and his kit, and headed towards the elevators through the thick throng of visitors to their home city. 

“Mr. Stokes!” a female voice called out. 

Both Nick and Greg turned to see a young woman with long brown hair tied back into a french braid, wearing a police uniform, and carrying a metal folding chair coming towards them. 

“Yes? I’m Nick Stokes,” Nick said once she was close enough. 

“Hi, I’m Officer Smile.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nick asked with a look of disbelief on his face. 

“No,” she smiled. “That really is my last name. I was sent to keep an eye on your room.”

Understanding dawned on Nick’s features and he relaxed. “Oh, ok.”

Greg said nothing, just stayed close to Nick while he stared at the ground and kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get too close. They headed toward the elevators once again. Secretly, he did kinda like her, in a friendly sort of way. She carried herself well, like she meant business, like she could kick butt if she had to and come out barely breaking a sweat. And he knew he’d be that much safer with her there as well as Nick, though he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about him. How much of his case, and he hated to think of it that way, did she know? Did she hate him for it? For letting Derek take control of him? For being gay in the first place? 

Before he knew it they were outside room 3313 and Nick was sliding the keycard into the slot. 

“Greg,” she said his name for the first time in a gentle tone. 

He finally looked up at her, feeling a little embarrassed and ashamed for not saying anything to her sooner. Nick stopped in the open doorway but didn’t say anything. 

“You’re going to be just fine,” the young officer finished, spearing all of Greg’s fears about her on a long stake and throwing it off a cliff. 

He managed a weak appreciative smile but couldn’t find the words to go with it. As much as she would protect him and didn’t mind his baggage, he still just wanted to run into the room and burrow underneath the covers of his bed and never come out... at least for a few centuries. Maybe he’d allow Nick to bring him food, but he wanted to get away from the world... from everything. 

“You boys need anything, I’ll be right out here.” 

Nick nodded as Officer Smile set up the chair and sat down in a no nonsense manner. 

Normally Greg would be waiting patiently for an invite to sit down on one of the beds, to claim one as his own for the night. Even if that invite never came. But with Nick, he knew it wouldn’t come because he knew he was expected to operate under his own power. 

So, as Nick unpacked Greg chose the bed closest to the wall and sat down, leaning against a propped pillow. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen to him now. He belonged to Derek but he’d been arrested. And Nick had been so wonderful to him during the past week, giving him everything he’d ever wanted in a relationship. He wasn’t sure he deserved it all. He’d been blind as a bat when he’d met up with Derek. He should have seen it coming. He should have known the moment he met Derek that it would turn ugly. But he’d been so amazed that anyone would want him that he didn’t see just how much Derek had really latched onto him that first night compared to the way Nick had held back for so many years. 

He remembered the past week with Nick and realized how much he’d enjoyed living without the collar. He could feel it on him now, as if it was literally choking the life out of him. He knew it would be easy to reach up and take it off, but he’d never touched it before. Derek had always put it on him and had always been the one to take it off. He had never touched it with his own fingers before, unless it was by accident and then he was quick to pull away. 

Taking it off wouldn’t be that easy. It meant everything Aunt Gen had said in One Door Away From Heaven. Changing everything about his life, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. She was right, the pain was something he was used to. He knew pain. But life without pain? That was something new. Uncharted territory. And everything had happened so fast during the past week. 

“Hey, you doing ok?” 

Greg slowly looked over at Nick across the room, and realized he’d been staring off into space for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he choked out, surprised to find his throat thick with emotion. 

Nick moved to sit beside him and held out his hand palm up in an inviting gesture. Unsure what was going on inside him, Greg placed a shaking hand in Nick’s, wishing it wasn’t shaking again. 

“I know this is hard for you, but it’s ok to let go,” Nick said in a quiet voice. “It’s ok, everything’s going to be ok. He doesn’t own you anymore. You own yourself. You make your own decisions from now on. In my book you can do no wrong. You will never be punished like that ever again. I love you and I want to always be here for you because I know you’re a good person, you’re an amazing person. And I want everyone to see the Greg I know that’s inside you. I want Derek to walk into that courtroom and realize he doesn’t have you under his thumb anymore. I want you to be yourself, to do the things you’ve never done before, the things you’ve dreamed about doing. I want you to be you.”

Aunt Gen’s words came back to him in a flash. That moment of grace, that special person she’d hoped for Micky to find... Greg knew he’d found them right here in this room, right now. This was it. He could feel it coming, could feel his life beginning to pivot in that new direction. 

He didn’t even see or hear Nick sliding his hands into the latex gloves until he felt them at his throat unbuckling the collar with soft, quick movements. He had it bagged, tagged, and the gloves scattered on the floor within seconds. 

It was gone. The collar was gone. And all of a sudden he found it hard to breath. Aunt Gen’s words were ringing in his head mixed with Micky’s determined ones as he clutched onto Nick’s arms for support, and for the first time in years he felt hot stinging tears rolling down his face without trying to control them. Wracking sobs overcame him and Nick pulled him into his arms and held him close. Every emotion he’d held bottled on the shelf inside his heart popped open and exploded throughout his whole body. Nick didn’t say a word, just continued to hold him close, rocking him back and forth, and gently kissing his forehead as he cried. 

He could feel again. He felt true happiness for the first time in years, and hatred, fear, love, anguish. He felt freedom spreading throughout him, cleansing him from his past. But above all else, he felt a sense of home. Nick made him feel those things, made him feel like he was a person again, whole and loved. 

* * *

Warrick slid the last evidence bag from Greg’s apartment into the back of the Denali and  
jumped into the driver’s seat. Sara was already waiting for him. 

“I’m just gonna give Griss a call, let him know we’re done and headed back to the lab.”

Sara only nodded as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed their boss. 

“Grissom.”

“Hey, Griss. Sara and I just finished up. We’re headed back to the lab now.”

“Good. Did you find anything?”

Warrick pulled the suv out of the parking lot and into traffic. “Hell, it was nasty what we found. More video tapes, a metal collar chained to the wall. Looking at Greg’s bank account, it was bled dry. Apparently, he was signing his paychecks but Derek was cashing them. So he never saw a single penny of his own money. You have no idea how glad I am that Nick got him out of there. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“And he’s not the only one. There are people all over the world living like he did, thinking they have no way out, even thinking that’s the way normal people live.”

“Man.” Warrick shook his head. “Look, are you still at Nick’s?”

“Just leaving, why?”

“I finally got through to his landlord and found out he’s away for the week. But he said he’d pay me back for the new lock set. As soon as I can I’ll zip over there and get it installed so nothing gets stolen.”

“Good thinking. I’ll get an officer to stay here until then. By the way, I need you to go pick up that collar Greg was wearing earlier. They’re staying at the Mandalay Bay.”

“Woah! Who’s paying for that? I didn’t know Nicky could afford that?”

“Well, the Sheriff was going to appeal to the city, but it backfired, so you’ll have to tell Nick he’s paying out of pocket.”

“Ouch. Ok, will do. And, um, why does Greg still have the collar? Why didn’t whoever processed him, I’m assuming someone must have, take it then?”

“Yeah, long story on that one. Nick had to process him because he won’t let anyone else touch him from what I gather and he wouldn’t give it up.”

“What?! Why wouldn’t he want to get rid of it?”

“You have to understand, Warrick, it’s what he’s used to. He’s lived with it for so long that not having it is like cliff diving for the first time without safety equipment and no experienced trainer to help you.”

“Right, of course. So, you think he’ll be ready by now?”

He heard Grissom sigh on the other end. “I hope so. I told Nick I’d send you to go pick it up later tonight.”

“Alright, well, I’ll get back to you and let you know how things go.”

Warrick hung up and updated Sara on everything their boss had said. 

“Alright, look, since we’re already headed back to the lab and the Bay is back the other way, why don’t you just drop me off at the lab. I can get processing this stuff and we can compare notes from Nick’s place. Besides, I’m not sure right now how welcome my presence is going to be as well as yours. I doubt they’re even gonna want to see you all by your lonesome. No offense.”

“None taken. You’re probably right on that. Besides, the faster we get through this evidence, hopefully the faster we get this idiot through court and into prison. Hell, maybe someone can break his balls in there, show him what it’s like to be on the receiving end for once.”

Sara smirked. “You know, I like how you think sometimes. That does sound nice. I know I’ve helped put a few guys away who would rip him to shreds. Hey, do you think we could get ringside seats?”

* * *

A double set of keys jangled in Warrick’s pocket as he found his way to the front desk at the Mandalay Bay. 

“Welcome to the Mandalay Bay, how can I help you?” the young woman at the desk asked. 

“Yeah, hi, there’s been some complications paying for a room. Um, I don’t know the number but it’s registered to a Nick Stokes.”

“Ok, what’s the problem?” She hardly looked fazed as if she dealt with these sorts of problems everyday. 

“Well, the city was supposed to pay for it, but that’s not gonna happen anymore.”

She typed something into the computer in front of her. 

“Ah, yes, yup, it says so right here.”

“If you could do me a huge favor, it would be much appreciated,” he said leaning over the counter, so that she could hear his low voice. 

“Um, what would that be by chance?”

Warrick slid his credit card across the counter. “I’m paying for the room, but don’t tell Nick when he comes to check out.”

“You got it,” she said with a bright smile, obviously relieved that the room would be paid for in a quick and easy manner. 

Upstairs, Warrick was met at the door by a young officer, who was quick to stand in his way when he went to knock. 

“Relax,” he read her name, “Officer Smile. I work for the Crime Lab.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not allowed to let anyone enter without checking for ID first.”

“Come on, you’ve got to be kidding me! I work with them! They’ll tell you!”

“Can’t do it. Have to see your ID first. My job is to protect them, and I fully intend to do that.”

Warrick was taken aback for a moment. Nick and Greg certainly had it good here. Nice hotel, and for certain no one was going to harm them with her in the way. He relaxed and dug out his wallet again. 

“I’m glad someone as good as you’s looking out for them. They really need it after tonight.”

She checked over his ID and nodded, handing it back to him. 

“CSI Brown, feel free to enter.”

He knocked on the door and it was opened not seconds later by a tired looking Nick who had a thick paperback novel in his hand. 

“Warrick?”

“You look beat man. Grissom sent me to pick up that collar.”

“Oh, right.”

Nick rubbed the sleep from his eyes before sliding a bookmark into the book and setting it on a nearby table. Warrick stepped into the room as Nick crossed to the nightstand between the two beds. Greg appeared to be sound asleep, curled up in bed, the covers tucked in all around him. The second pillow on his bed had been propped up as if Nick had been sitting beside him while he slept. The other bed was untouched. Nick came back with the evidence bag containing the collar. 

“Nick?” Greg’s sleepy voice called out to the room as he turned over. 

“I’m right here, Greg.”

“How’s he doing?” Warrick asked, taking the bag from Nick. 

“Better, though he’s already had a nightmare about Derek tonight.” Nick sighed. “It’s going to be a long hard road for him, but I’m sure he’ll be ok.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“No. That’s not a good idea.”

“Nick, I just want to talk to him. I’m not here to interrogate him. He’s my friend too ya know. I just want to say ‘hi’.”

Nick gave him a death glare that shocked him to the core. Nick was defending Greg as if Derek were still loose and after him. As if he was afraid of others hurting Greg too. Maybe Grissom was right and Greg did have other issues, such as people touching him.

“We got him, Nick. You know we got Derek. No one’s going to hurt him. I certainly don’t want to hurt him! Come on!”

Nick’s shoulders sagged and he stepped aside to let Warrick enter further into the room. 

Greg was now sitting up in bed, the look on his face one of slight worry. Remembering Nick clearly asking Greg for his trust before he touched him at the crime scene Warrick didn’t get too close, only close enough to talk. The man’s face had purpled more since he’d seen him a few hours earlier that night, but other than that he appeared to be ok. His left arm was covered in a long night shirt so he couldn’t see if it was bandaged or not or how bad it was. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How’re you doing?”

“Been better,” was Greg’s wary reply. 

“I just want you to know that you’re in safe hands here. That officer out there, she’s not letting anyone in without ID. Not even me. And Nicky here, I know he’ll protect you and keep you safe too, if I know him at all.”

A slight smile came to Greg’s features, though it didn’t stay for long. 

“We just want you back at the lab cause we all miss you. It’s too quiet without you and the coffee sucks. Just know that we’re all behind you one hundred percent, ok? Whatever you need, we’re there.”

Greg nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “That means a lot.” 

He wasn’t good with this mushy stuff, but for some reason he felt honored to have gotten that much of a response out of him. And he felt like Greg had really meant it which in turn made him feel better about the whole situation. He turned back to Nick who was hovering nearby, the book in his hands again. 

“These are for you,” he said, pulling out the second set of keys from his pocket. 

“What’s this?”

“You’re new apartment keys. You really broke everything when you went through that door. Man, I’ve never seen anything like it cept for a police battering ram.” He chuckled. “I got it all fixed up for you so you won’t loose anything while you’re away.”

“Wow, thanks. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing man, I got in touch with your landlord he’s paying me back.”

“Aw, thanks man.”

“No prob. Listen, you both need some sleep, and so do I, so I’m gonna go, but I’ll check back in with you later on, ok?”

“Sure.” 

✢

“You broke down your door, for me?” Greg asked once Warrick was gone and Nick was beside him on the bed again. 

“I had a good enough reason to,” Nick smiled. “And I’m glad I did. How was your nap? I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“It was ok. Couldn’t really sleep anyway. You know, nightmare and all.”

“Are you ok with the choice of hotel? Are you comfortable enough?”

Sure they’d gotten one of the cheapest rooms in the whole place, but the beds were so soft, and the pillows were just right. Greg wondered if they would notice a missing pillow when they left. 

“It’s home,” he replied. 

Nick looked at him obviously confused. 

“I am home. Because ‘home’ is where you are.” 

“What you said... over the phone... was that... was that what I think it was? And if so... did you really mean it?” 

Greg looked up, surprised. Nick had understood his code? Greg shivered at the reminder of Derek sitting beside him on the couch while he spoke to Nick, telling him words Derek would have killed him for saying. 

“I’m sorry. I misunderstood, then. Forget what I...”

“No. No, Nick, you didn’t misunderstand. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then you understood me perfectly.”

Nick’s eyes widened as Greg looked up at him through his lashes. He felt shy admitting this, as if he should still be in highschool admitting to his first crush.

“I know I can say I love you, Nick, because when I met Derek I was happy, my life was good, I enjoyed my job, and he promised me the world. I thought I was in love with the perfect man. But when you found me I was a broken mess with hardly anything left of my life and yet you never left me. You’ve been there for me in more ways that I can count. You’ve seen me on my worst days, and I still don’t know why you’re still here. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, I just never said anything cause I didn’t know how you felt. I was on a high from liking you when I met him. But tonight, I was afraid I’d never get that chance to tell you. I was afraid my life would end and you’d be left never knowing that I do love you, when you told me every day that you loved me.” 

Nick just stared at him, his eyes still wide. 

“I’m sorry, did I overstep my bounds?” Greg asked in a meek voice, still unsure what the boundaries of a normal relationship were.

“No, you didn’t, you didn’t.”

Tears cascaded down his face and he smiled through them.

“I know I love you, but I don’t know if I can do this, if I can lead a normal life because I never have.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, his smile gone.

“I was a gay geek in highschool. The worst combination ever. I didn’t date until college and the one guy that I did... he wasn’t much better than Derek.”

“Oh Greg.”

“I hid my crappy life behind smiles, laughs, and fake dates... until this week. You showed me what I want most in this world, I just... I think I need to take it slow, relationship wise. But I still want you to stay with me. I still need you to hold me at night. Is that ok?”

“Hey, whatever you want is fine by me. We can take it as slow as you want. And you know I’m always here for you. I won’t ever leave your side unless you tell me to.” 

Greg smiled a shy smile, still not believing that this was really happening. 

“When we first met, you know, my first night on the job, you gave me a smile I could never forget. Tell me that was real.”

Greg thought back to that night so many years ago, and he saw it all so clear... He’d just come out of the DNA lab to find Catherine when he’d seen Nick, the cutest and most handsome guy he’d ever seen before. The smile that lit up his face had the kilowatts to power the whole world with electricity. Now there was a man to crush on if ever he’d seen one. 

“Yes! That one, right there!” Nick exclaimed. 

Greg stopped daydreaming and realized he really was smiling the same smile. He grinned wider. 

“Yeah, that was real. I mean, I was looking at you, wasn’t I?” He stopped smiling and sighed. “This is all just a dream. I know it. It’s a dream and I don’t want to wake up. Cause if I do, none of this will be real, and you’ll just turn into Derek who’s asking, again, why I took a pay cut because it doesn’t serve his needs. And then... my heart will break. My whole being will break. I won’t be able to handle it again, after knowing this.”

“Hey, it’s ok honey. You’re not dreaming, I promise.” Nick took his face in his hands and looked into his eyes. “I love you, and I’ll be fighting to keep you here with me.” 

Greg found tears forming in his own eyes once again. “Thank you.”

Nick leaned toward him. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

And then his lips were brushing softly against Greg’s and he could feel his heart begin to pound, waking up deep within him. It felt alive and happy, something he hadn’t felt since he was a kid receiving his first red bicycle for his birthday. He closed his eyes savoring the feeling, not wanting it to end. No one else had ever been that gentle and loving with him, had ever managed to make him feel so alive before. 

All too soon Nick had pulled away. He opened his eyes and knew he was never going to let Nick go.

“Let me heal your broken heart,” Nick was saying. “Give me a chance and I can teach it to dance.”

“I... I’ve never been dancing before... real dancing, I mean... I never learned how...”

“Do you trust me?” 

Nick stood up and held his hand out to Greg. 

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you dancing.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Come on.”

He let Nick take his hand and pull him off the bed into his arms. 

“Relax, G, it’s ok. Let me do the work and you just follow. Just imagine your favorite band sitting in the corner over there playing your favorite slow song.” 

Nick held him close, his arms wrapped around his waist as they began to sway together to the invisible band only they could hear. Little by little Greg began to relax in Nick’s arms. Resting his head on his shoulder he knew this was where he belonged. This was his home. This was the life he’d been searching for, the life he’d dreamed about for so long. It was here. It was now. And he couldn’t have been happier. 


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “T” is the short form for the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority in Boston. So when you read “T stop” I’m referring to a trolley/subway stop right in front of the Holiday Inn on Beacon Street (if you want to get that specific). 
> 
> Part of this Epilogue was written in a restaurant called Greg’s Place that I happened to find by accident while visiting Manchester, NH last week. I decided when I saw it that I had to work on this over dinner, just for Greg, may he always have food on his plate, and may he always be happy (with Nick, of course).

Nick dashed from the bathroom over to his suitcase and pulled out the black tie he’d brought with him. He was wearing black dress pants and a dark green button down shirt and a suit jacket. 

“I’m so sorry Greg, I’m going as fast as I can!”

He stood in front of the mirror in the hotel room and fumbled with the tie. 

“I just wish my team didn’t act like a bunch of first graders sometimes. They know I’m not in Vegas, I’m not on call, and that I put Dan in charge. And if something big happens, I told him to call Catherine or Warrick . But no, they have to call me. When I get back I’m going to seriously sit down with Warrick and see if we can’t somehow split the team up with his. I think Chuck and Clarence would work better on Graveyard anyway. They seem to like the dark and maybe Warrick would be happy to have them on his team since he just lost a member to Swing. And besides, I always have you as my backup CSI, so it should work out. Right?”

Nick heaved a large sigh when he finally got the tie tied as Greg came up behind him. 

“Hey, calm down. Relax. This isn’t work, so forget about it for now, ok? When we get back I’ll have a talk with them. They can’t argue with the best DNA Analyst in the whole country who also happens to be a CSI at the same time. You may be the supervisor but everyone knows I hold the power over the Lab Rats and the CSIs on Days.” Greg grinned a rare mischievous grin. “And hey, why are you wearing a tie anyway? You know you don’t need it. Here, hold this,” Greg said, handing Nick _One Door Away From Heaven_ as he reached up and started to untie the messy knot around Nick’s neck. “Don’t let me forget to take it with me.”

“You don’t go anywhere without it so that shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“You know this is casual attire. No one else will be this fancy. Lose the suit jacket too.”

“But you’re dressed up,” Nick countered, turning to face Greg who was wearing a black button down shirt, black dress pants, and a casual black blazer. 

“Yeah, but I’m not wearing a tie. And, besides, I have to look good.”

“Oh, and I don’t?” Nick felt a little hurt for a second. 

“No, baby, because you already look good, no matter what.”

Greg leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

“Now, come on, or we’re gonna be late. Just be glad the T stop is right outside the hotel.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m also glad this city has good public transport so we don’t have to pay outrageous taxi fares. Four dollars to get to the Hynes Convention Center. Can’t beat that.”

“Gotta love Boston.”

“I’m sorry, but my heart’s still in Vegas,” Nick said as they left the room and headed down the stairs. 

Now it was Greg that wore the hurt expression on his face. “I thought you loved me. I thought your heart was right here,” he said, patting his own chest. 

Nick just grinned. “You know what I meant.”

* * *

<i> “I know some of you came from far away to be here tonight and I sincerely hope you get something out of this as much as I will. It was years ago now when my therapist suggested I go out into the world and tell my story. He said it would help me become a stronger person. But there’s more to it than that. Sure, it’s helped me live a better life, and I’m stronger for it, but I’m only one person. And I don’t want to help just me. I want to help all of you, and everyone you know who needs help. That’s why I’m here today. To show you that you can survive. You can have a normal life without the pain. There is a light at the end of the tunnel no matter how dark it seems now,” said the man with curly brown hair and a shy smile as he stood behind the podium in front of the large audience and the tv cameras. 

“You need to know what happened to me so you can see that it is possible to survive and lead a good life. What I’m about to tell you is brutal, it might even scare you, but it’s the truth. It’s what happened to me. I know you’ve all heard the line about life being too short, but it’s true. Life is too short to live all of it in pain because of someone else. And there are things you need to know about it that I’ve learned over the many years of my life that I’d like to share with you.”  
Sitting in the center of the front row Nick knew Greg had been right. Everyone else was dressed in jeans and t-shirts while Greg looked striking in his semi-casual dress clothes. Although he still felt a little naked without his tie, he felt nothing but love for the man on the stage. Derek had not succeeded in ruining Greg. He’d come back full force, and stronger than ever. Nick was so proud of him for being able to stand up there and tell several hundred people what his life had been like with Jason and Derek. It took guts. 

He remembered the first few times he’d told his story to others, in much smaller groups. He’d still felt ashamed, and he kept looking at his feet. Nick had always sat somewhere in the audience so that Greg could locate him easily and make eye contact if he needed the support. Usually, if he wasn’t looking at his feet, he would lock eyes with Nick and wouldn’t let go until he was done talking. Once they got home he’d burst into tears over the whole ordeal because he hated going through it, even though he knew it would help him in the long run. He’d be a mess for hours after that and because he wasn’t ready to go back out into the field yet, the DNA Analyst from Days would have to do a double shift as well as another CSI if Graveyard was swamped with cases. 

But now, as he stood up on this stage in front of his largest group yet, Greg wasn’t looking down at his feet, and shame was a far distant memory he only talked about, as he made eye contact with as many audience members as he could. He knew Nick was there, knew exactly where he was sitting, but he was talking to everyone else. He had a message to deliver, and deliver it he would. 

“I’ve been doing this for years, touring the country, and telling my story. And every time I get up on stage I get a little stronger. But I’ve always left out the most important part of my story. Tonight, you all need to hear that part. It’s time I finished my story...” </i>

* * *

Nick set aside his container of Chinese orange chicken they’d had delivered from the Hsin Hsin Café on Mass Ave., one of their favorite restaurants in Boston, and turned to face Greg sitting beside him on the hotel bed. Both of them were in sweat pants and t-shirts, ready to go to sleep as soon as they were done with dinner and a possible movie afterwards. 

“Greg, I... I still can’t believe you did that. You know the whole lab will know by now. There will be plenty of gossip when we get back tomorrow, what with those tv crews and all. But really, I never got to thank you before...”

Greg stopped him with a finger to his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

Nick kissed the finger. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, I don’t want you to. It was something I had to do. Something I knew needed to be done for a long time.”

“You were planning that without my knowledge, weren’t you? And I thought I knew you so well Gregory Hojem Sanders.”

“Planning... no. Gaining the courage to... yes. The rest of my talk is a little more scripted, as you know. But that... I didn’t have to script that. That was me more than anything else in the world.”

Nick had always been as supportive of Greg as he could, but more often than not when they were out in public or at work, he would hang back and let Greg shine, giving him his moments to be strong on his own when he could. And tonight, he’d shone so bright the whole world could have seen it without the help of the television crews. Nick couldn’t be more proud of him and out of that whole world, he was the one who got to love him on the most personal level. He couldn’t feel any luckier. Tonight especially, he felt like he didn’t deserve such a wonderful, loving man. He thought about telling that to Greg but he knew he would only disagree saying that it was himself who didn’t deserve Nick. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Nick whispered, not realizing he was vocalizing his thoughts out loud until they were out of his mouth and he had no choice but to continue. “You’re so perfect and wonderful. I couldn’t possibly be good enough to deserve you.”

“Nicky, shhhhh. Don’t say that. You know it’s not true. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve YOU. I still don’t understand how and why you’re still here after all these long, hard, complicated years. But I don’t want to know. You’re here, and that’s all that matters to me. Here,” Greg handed him a fortune cookie and unwrapped his own. 

Nick watched as he broke the cookie in half, took the fortune out, but refused to look at it as he ate the first half of the cookie and then the second. 

“What does your fortune say?” Nick asked as he took Greg’s left arm in his hand and rubbed the faded scar with his thumb. 

“Your dreams will come true,” Greg said, reading the little slip of paper. “You know these things are right sometimes.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“My dreams did come true.” 

* * *

<i> “Yes, he beat me constantly. Yes, he chained me to the wall so I couldn’t go anywhere. And yes, he sexually assaulted me on numerous occasions. But I survived. I took some time off work, went to a lot of therapy sessions. And it all helped. But going back to work three months after the incident was one of the hardest parts. Of course some of my co-workers had visited me while I was off work, and I got used to seeing them again and letting them into my personal life a lot more than they ever had been. But not everyone knew what had happened or had seen me after that day Nick had taken me to the hospital. I was scared that day. Scared of how everyone would react to me, but really, I had nothing to be scared about. Even those who didn’t know about Derek, or who didn’t like me very much, were so supportive of me I couldn’t handle it at first. I ended up in the bathroom crying during my first night back because I couldn’t believe how great everyone was being. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I knew I still had a long hard road ahead of me, but I felt like somehow everything would turn out ok in the end. 

“And you know what? Everything has. It was a long hard road but I made it. I took each day as it came at me, and I survived to stand here and tell you that if I can make it, so can you. Nightmares plagued me for months, years afterward. I’d see Derek everywhere I went and run home, afraid that he would see me, find me, and hurt me again. And yes, he was still in prison; Will be for his whole life. But I saw him almost everyday for a long time after the incident and the trial. Over time things changed and I saw him less and less. These days, I still see him every now and then. But I don’t run and hide anymore. Because I’ve got someone else standing beside me.”

Nick’s heart began to pound. He wasn’t sure what to think. This had never entered the story before. Greg had always edited out a few of the more personal moments that had happened during their first week together, and he had tonight too, just a few moments ago. Nick was content where he was, letting Greg take the spotlight, letting him grow more secure in himself. These talks were for Greg as much as they were for the rest of the audience, just as his therapist had suggested. Nick didn’t need to share that spotlight. But now... Greg was finishing his story.

“I’ve never mentioned him before because I know some people from one of my therapy groups a long time ago felt a little jealous whenever I mentioned him. I had someone who helped pull me out of my relationship with Derek, set me back on my feet, and held me there any time I was about to take a nose dive into the abyss just waiting to claim me. And they didn’t. But you need to know that although you may be in a bad relationship now, that although maybe there’s been a string of them and you seem to only attract the bad ones, there is hope out there for you.”

Greg held up One Door Away From Heaven. “As Aunt Gen said ‘Change isn’t easy’. But it is possible. 

“Nick is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I couldn’t be happier. That first week with him was the hardest of my life, learning to trust again. But I also got something else out of it as well. I learned to open my heart and love again. When I asked why he stopped me from killing myself and he told me how he truly felt about me, I was in shock. For so long I’d actually had a crush on him, but thought he didn’t like me the same way. I couldn’t tell him right away that I did love him. I was being pulled in two different directions. The knife was calling me to the end of my life, while Nick was calling me to the beginning. 

“It’s been fifteen years since Derek went to prison and Nick has stood by my side during every moment of everyday of all those years. It’s been fifteen years since my life began and I feel like a teenager with the world at my feet. And in three days,” Greg said holding up his left hand to show the silver band that was engraved ‘Forever, Love Nick’. “We’ll be celebrating our tenth commitment anniversary and we’ll be hyphenating our last names together. I made him wait ten years because I wasn’t ready the first year. Now I am. 

“If you’ve been to many of my events you may have noticed the same good-looking, handsome, beautiful, man at every one. I do several talks a year, and he comes with me to all of them, no matter where they are, even if his vacation and sick days are gone, even if he’s in the middle of a big, important case at work. He hasn’t missed one yet. And right now, it’s time that nameless beautiful face gets up here so people can finally know who he is,” Greg’s beautiful voice rang out over the audience like a musical note hanging in the silent air after the last chord has been played.

Nick’s breath stopped as Greg looked down at him and locked their eyes together. Those seated around him looked from Greg to him, connecting them instantly. Nick was frozen in his seat. Never before had Greg called him up on stage. What was he doing? Was this a dream? They were on national television and in front of hundreds of people and Greg was calling him up on stage? He looked down at his own left hand at the silver band engraved ‘Always, Love Greg’ and felt his bottom lip starting to quiver. No, he wasn’t going to cry, not now. Not with all these people watching him. 

There were hands on his arms, pushing him forward out of his seat, and he realized it was those sitting on either side of him. He got up and walked, as if in a daze, toward the stairs that lead to the stage. It felt like he was walking in slow motion, but then he was beside the podium before he knew it. 

Greg turned to face him, taking both his hands in his own and locking eyes again. Not only could he feel the love pouring out of Greg, but he could see it in his deep chocolate eyes, and his own began to well up. 

“I’m doing this for you, for all the years you’ve stood beside me, holding me up,” Greg began. “I want people to know who you are, Nicholas Stokes, because you’ve been in my shadow for so long, supporting me through so much. It’s been a lot of hard work and I don’t know how you do it. You are such a big part of my life. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I want to thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me. You were the one who taught my heart to dance and my soul how to live. For most of my life I was just a seed, that couldn’t grow. You found me at my lowest and didn’t turn away. With your love, I did grow. You brought me to my highest point, and I’m still growing. Baby, I would be nothing without you. You’re the other half that makes me whole.”

Greg pulled Nick closer, let his hands go, and wrapped his arms around the older man’s waist. To a now cheering crowd and all the news cameras, Greg leaned into Nick and let their lips collide in a wet, sloppy, beautiful, magical kiss. Tears graced Nick’s face as he was transported far away from everyone else, to a place where it was just him and Greg and he held his other half close not ever wanting to let go. He was still stunned, but he knew he would never forget this for as long as he lived. 

“I’ll love you always,” Greg said when he finally pulled away. 

“And I’ll love you forever.” Nick smiled, still holding onto Greg. </i>

  
  
The End


End file.
